Bring Me To Life
by luckei1
Summary: Hermione finds Pansy about to jump off a bridge. Draco/Hermione, Harry/Pansy
1. Life Chose Me

** Bring Me To Life **

**Chapter One: Life Chose Me**

_"I've poured this bottle of light from the sun"—Dar Williams_

It was a sunny day. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, a few puffy white clouds dotted the expanse, and a cool, spring breeze was blowing. It was the perfect kind of day.

Hermione smiled as she walked through London on her way from her flat to the offices of the Daily Prophet, located very near the Ministry. Usually she Apparated, but when she'd looked out the window that morning, the weather was begging her to walk.

A sidewalk vendor was selling flowers and she stopped to admire them. He was stationed on one side of the Waterloo Bridge that spanned the Thames. The cart was almost bursting, there were so many flowers from which to choose. Hermione decided to buy a colorful bunch for her office—the grey walls of the Prophet could be depressing.

She thanked the man and, with a small wave, started across the bridge. She stopped about a third of the way over to admire the city and the river. Sometimes London was breathtaking! She loved spring. The angle of the sun highlighted all the new colors bursting into life on trees, bushes, and in the city parks. The geraniums she'd planted in her window box were just starting to bloom.

Hermione smiled and started to continue her walk, but as she turned her head, something caught her attention. A red scarf was fluttering down toward the river, and it was light enough that the wind twisted it in and around itself. She watched as it landed softly on the water and began moving with the current.

Almost as an afterthought, Hermione looked toward the middle of the bridge to see who had dropped the scarf. Instead of seeing someone looking over the side of the bridge at her scarf in dismay, she saw a woman crouched precariously on the outside.

For a moment, Hermione panicked. As she watched, the woman made no attempt to jump, or stand, or even move. Hermione glanced around her frantically; no one else seemed to have noticed the woman. Hermione ran over to the middle of the bridge, and when she looked down, saw that the woman hadn't moved.

"Don't do it!" Hermione yelled, afraid that anything she might say would frighten the woman and cause her to fall.

Without looking up, the woman said, "Why not? What's the point?"

"Please, there's always a point. Come up here and let's talk." Her mind was spinning and she felt utterly helpless. The dark-haired woman was too far to reach, as she was in a crouched position. Hermione decided she would use magic if she had to, should the woman fall.

"He doesn't love me," came the woman's pouty voice.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes, even though no one would have seen. "I'm sure that's not true," Hermione said encouragingly. She had no idea if it were true, of course, but she was fairly certain it wasn't important to know at this point.

The woman scoffed and shook her head. "You don't know him."

"No, you're right, I don't. But—he's not worth this, I know that much. Now, come up here and let's talk. Tell me all about what a creep this bloke is."

"Why bother? He said he'd never love me."

"I'm sure he was just angry," Hermione offered, practically pleading for the woman to listen.

"You don't know Draco."

Hermione's blood froze for just a fraction of a second. There could be no chance of this Draco being any other than _the _Draco. It wasn't exactly a common name.

The woman continued what promised to be a long soliloquy on the virtues of Draco Malfoy. "He's horrible and wonderful all at the same time."

"Pansy?" Hermione blurted.

She looked up, finally. "Granger?"

"Are you _mad_? Get up here right now!"

"But—"

"Draco Malfoy is absolutely not worth this. If you're not up here with me in five seconds, I'm going to hex you. One. Two. Three—"

"Okay, okay, Merlin. Keep your knickers on." Slowly and carefully, Pansy stood, then climbed over the bridge railing and onto the sidewalk.

When Pansy was safely on the right side of the rail, Hermione slumped to the ground, breathing hard. Her flower bunch fell to her side. Pansy wrung her hands before slumping next to Hermione. She curled her legs up to her chest and cried.

Cars rushed by, oblivious to what had almost happened. Hermione looked to the end of the bridge and spotted a blue car whose driver just might have seen Pansy climbing over the railing. As the car took a right turn, Hermione mentally cursed the driver for not having the decency to stop.

Pansy's sobs drew Hermione's attention. She put an arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze. It was awkward, as she was a foot away from Pansy, but she sat that way until Pansy's shoulders stopped shaking.

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked at Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"I—I sometimes walk to work."

"Oh."

"Pansy, were you really going to jump?"

"I don't know. I wanted to, at first, but then … I got to thinking about this painting I'd started, but hadn't finished, and I really wanted to. Finish it, I mean. If I'd jumped, and … and died, I wouldn't have been able to."

"You paint?" Hermione asked, unable to hide her surprise.

Pansy nodded with a sniff.

"What were you painting?"

"There's a garden on Draco's property. In one part of it, there's a bench, next to an orange tree. In the evenings, the sun shines through the garden and the trees, and—it's just beautiful. You really should see it. I can't describe it. That's why I wanted to paint it."

"Forgive me, I don't mean to pry, but I simply don't know … are you and Malfoy … married?"

"No," Pansy said sadly. Then, "You're wondering why I'm painting his garden, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"I live at his house."

"You live with him?"

Pansy gave a wry laugh. "Yes and no. Not _with _him, just in his house. That's all."

"Oh." Hermione's mind was racing once again. She felt a kind of duty to Pansy, after what had just happened. She couldn't simply walk away from her with a 'good day, then.' She had no details whatsoever about Pansy and Malfoy's relationship; she only knew that Pansy should _not_return to his home. Probably ever again. Anger for Malfoy started boiling in Hermione's blood.

"Pansy, what are you doing today?"

She shrugged.

"Come to my place. I'll write to my boss at work to tell them I can't come in. You look like you could use some sleep."

Pansy frowned and appeared to be thinking. "But Draco expects me for lunch."

"Cancel. You probably shouldn't see him for a while anyway. Don't you think?"

Again Pansy shrugged.

"I mean it," Hermione said, standing. She held a hand out for Pansy. "Let's go… do… girly things."

Pansy looked up at her and half-smiled. "I've always wondered if it would be possible to deal with that hair of yours. We could make you over!"

Hermione gritted her teeth and once again refused to roll her eyes. "Whatever you want, Pansy. What do you say?"

The very brief moment of happiness passed as quickly as it had appeared. Pansy's smile faded and her entire aura slumped. "It's hopeless. Your hair is always going to look like … that," she said with a dismissive wave.

"Pansy," Hermione said, very patiently. "If anyone can do something with my hair, I'm sure it's you."

She looked up. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do," Hermione said. "Now, are you coming? You can have free reign over my hair."

Slowly, Pansy nodded and sighed. "I should tell Draco."

"No. You're a big girl. You don't have to tell him anything."

"He'll worry," said Pansy, standing.

"Let him."

"No, Granger, he's not like you think at all."

"Uh-huh. Come on, this way." Hermione started back down the bridge the same way she'd come, but after taking a few steps she stopped. Frowning, she went to the railing and looked down. "Pansy! You couldn't kill yourself by jumping off this bridge!"

Pansy walked to her side and looked down too. "I realized that when I got here."

Hermione looked at her and though she tried her best to suppress a giggle, she couldn't. Pansy scowled, then smiled and started walking along the bridge.

"Honestly, Granger, he's – "

"Let's make a rule, shall we?" Hermione said. "No talking about Malfoy. Okay?"

"But—"

"Pansy, I think it would be best for you right now not to talk about him."

Pansy grudgingly agreed and followed Hermione to her flat. They talked about nothing of consequence, Hermione asking a lot of questions to keep Pansy's mind occupied.

When they arrived at Hermione's flat, she sent Pansy to the bathroom for a long, soothing bath. She gave Pansy her very best bath oils and bubbles, and cast a spell so the water would stay hot. While Pansy soaked, Hermione made tea and when it was finished, she took Pansy a cup.

"Thank you," she whispered as she took the cup from Hermione. She took a sip and closed her eyes. Hermione quietly left the room.

When Pansy was finished, Hermione gave her a towel and her very best, most comfortable pajamas to wear. Hermione asked if she wanted to do her hair then, but Pansy shook her head and asked instead for a bed. Apparently, she hadn't slept well the last few nights.

Hermione led her to the spare room and with a flick of her wand, put sheets on the bed and extra fluffy pillows. She made sure to lock the windows, as she was on the sixth floor, and remove any sharp or potentially dangerous items. Hermione asked Pansy about her wand, and she frowned and said she'd left it at Draco's.

Pansy was asleep before Hermione even left the room.

**ooo**

The next three days were both difficult for Hermione and horrible for Pansy. Hermione refused to let Pansy leave the flat, or to run home to Draco, or to even talk about him. She was still trying to figure out just what to do with the girl. Harry and Ron had come over the second night, worried because she hadn't been to work in two days.

Hermione told them what had happened and they were both concerned, for her and for Pansy.

"Why do _you _have to keep her?" Ron asked.

"What about Malfoy?" Harry added.

"She's not going back there, Harry." Hermione crossed her arms; the matter was not open for debate. "I have no idea what happened between them, and I'm not letting her return to a place where she'd been so depressed she wanted to jump off a bridge." She turned to Ron. "I'm keeping her here because she has nowhere else to go. At least, she hasn't mentioned anywhere else. All she wants to do is go back to Malfoy."

"But Hermione, I'm worried about you," said Ron, looking away from her and fidgeting with the corner of her counter. "What if … what if she tries something while she's here?"

A few images flashed through Hermione's mind but she pushed them away. "I'm taking appropriate measures. I've removed all sharp objects from her reach, locking them away. And you _know _she won't be able to get through my locking spells. I keep all the windows locked, and prepare all her food. She doesn't know how to use most of the appliances, since they're Muggle. And she doesn't have her wand. I've even taken a few psychology books out from the library—to refresh myself—and I'm halfway through the second."

"So you'll be an expert in a week?" Harry asked.

"No," she said crossly. "But … I've had experience, and I think I can help her. She said she wanted to jump because Malfoy didn't love her anymore. Or something like that."

"I'd be throwing a party if I were her," said Ron with a chuckle.

Hermione scowled at him. "She honestly cares about him. That much I've learned since yesterday morning. She thinks he's the most perfect person alive."

"And I'm really a Death Eater," said Harry.

"I want to work with her to get her to see that he has faults. Once he's no longer this perfect image in her head, maybe she'll see that there are better men out there for her. Or, more importantly, that she doesn't need Malfoy or anyone to make her happy."

"Good luck," said Ron.

"I intend to call upon you two to help me," Hermione said in a tone that suggested they really had no choice in the matter.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "What exactly do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Right now, I'm not leaving her alone in the flat. But I'm going to have to leave occasionally, and eventually, I'll run out of sick time and have to return to work. You two can help by running errands for me, or sitting with her."

"She's not a baby," Ron said.

"I know that, but this is what I'm doing. If I leave her alone, she'll run off to Malfoy. And that is not what she needs." Hermione looked at her friends. "Please. Can I count on you?"

"Yes, of course," said Harry reluctantly. "You know you can. But please, promise me you'll get help when you're in over your head. Okay?"

"I will," she said sincerely, grateful for their understanding and friendship. "Oh, thank you!" Hermione hugged first Harry, then Ron. "So, Ron, how are things with Fleur's cousin?"

Ron blushed and looked away. "Fine. Her name is Suzette, by the way."

Hermione grinned. "I know. It's just fun to tease you."

"Oh, Hermione. I didn't know you had company." Pansy was standing in the doorway in Hermione's pajamas, looking sheepishly at those present.

"Pansy, come in. It's just Harry and Ron. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please," she said shyly. She sat on the edge of the sofa, as far away from the men as she could get. They waited in silence for Hermione to return.

"Thanks for offering_me_ some," Ron kidded nervously when she returned.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, would you—"

"No," he said quickly. "I'm fine. I think we were just leaving, right Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry said. "Sorry, I was… what?"

"We're about to leave, right?" Ron said emphatically.

"Oh, well, Hermione, do you need anything?"

"No, thanks anyway," she said, sitting beside Pansy and giving her a warm smile. "Do you need anything?" Pansy shook her head. "I guess I'll see you two around?" she said.

"Yeah, of course," said Ron. "Anything you need just let us know."

"It's nice to see you again, Pansy," said Harry, as he and Ron gathered their things to leave.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Oh, uhm, thank you."

Harry smiled at her, and followed Ron out the door. "Bye, Hermione!"

**ooo**

Two days later, right after dinner, there was a knock on the door. Hermione was expecting Harry to bring her a few groceries, so she didn't bother asking who it was. Mistake.

When she opened wide the door, she found Draco Malfoy standing there, looking like he'd walked three miles in the rain and caught pneumonia and _then_chosen not to eat for a week. He looked awful.

"Malfoy?"

Before she could think, Hermione heard running and soon Pansy had shoved Hermione out of the way and thrown her arms around Draco. He returned the hug and held her tight. Hermione watched in amazement.

"Don't ever do that again," he said sternly, as he pushed her off him. "Ever! Okay? I've never been so scared."

Pansy nodded, biting her lip and smiling. "I won't. I'm so glad you're here."

He nodded, his anger rapidly defusing. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Hermione loudly cleared her throat and both Pansy and Draco looked at her. "Pansy, I need to talk to… him." Pansy looked very reluctant to leave his side. "Please? It'll just take a minute, I promise."

"Can I go with him?" she asked.

Hermione looked at Draco and was surprised to see that his eyes were wide. "We need to talk about that," she said, still holding his gaze. "Malfoy? Hallway?"

He nodded and stepped back through the door that had never been shut. Hermione followed him and then locked and cast an Imperturbable charm on the door. Then she slowly turned around to face him, not sure exactly what she was going to say.

Fortunately, he relieved her of that worry. "What happened? Why is she here?"

"Malfoy—"

"She sent me a letter saying she was staying with you, asking me to come get her. I've been worried sick."

"If you'd let me talk, I'd be more than happy to fill you in."

"Oh, right. Go on, then."

Hermione took a deep breath, still not sure where to start. "I'm not sure how to say this. I found Pansy three days ago, standing on a bridge. She… had gone there with the intention of jumping."

Draco's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. "What?"

"It was complete coincidence that I found her. I talked her into _not _jumping, somehow, although really, she was just so surprised to see _me _that she did what I said. Anyway, I brought her here. She said she'd been living at your house, and that she'd wanted to jump because you didn't love her. I wasn't about to let her go back to you. And I'm not letting her go with you tonight, either."

Draco nodded, slowly processing the information. "I—I cannot believe she would do that." He let out his breath and grabbed his hair in his fists and pulled, startling Hermione. "She cannot come back. I—I can't do this anymore."

"Do what? What's going on? She's told me nothing, essentially. Would you start from the beginning?"

He looked at her, considered her for a moment, then Conjured a chair and sank heavily into it. "Pansy's parents were killed in the War. Voldemort had taken everything they had, so she was left with nothing. I took her in. She has been my friend for as long as I can remember; there was no way I could simply abandon her. She has been living with me ever since.

"At first, it was fine. We had fun, and I let her redo a few of the rooms where she was staying. But after maybe six months, she started getting really possessive. She would ask me where I was going, with whom, for how long… among other things. I… I reckon I knew she had a thing for me, but I never encouraged it, never led her on. At least, not intentionally; she claims I did.

"After a while, I cut down on my social outings. She would really go to pieces if I went on a date. She kept insisting that _she _was the one I was supposed to be with. I told her, repeatedly, that I didn't feel that way toward her. I was never anything but nice about it, and truthful. I'd had plenty of experience with Pansy being jealous in school, and knew how best to deal with it. At least, I thought I did. Apparently with her _living _with me, none of those strategies worked. She just got worse.

"After maybe another six months of that, I decided it was not worth fighting all the time and stopped going out as much. I thought she would lighten up, and we could return to just having fun as friends. But that didn't work, for either of us. I started resenting that she was keeping me from having a life, having friends, a girl—whatever. She kept expecting something to happen between us, and when it didn't, she would get angry.

"Another four months, maybe five, passed, and I couldn't take it anymore. I started seeing someone, and Pansy fell apart. Five nights ago, I was on a date with the girl, and Pansy must have followed me because she showed up and made a huge scene. It was, embarrassing, and she was loud, and… well, there were children present who heard a lot of things they should not have. I had to tell her, in front of the entire restaurant, that I didn't love her. She made me. I had always told her I would tell her the truth, so I did.

"She didn't scream, she didn't yell—nothing after that. She shed a few tears, looking at me as if I'd betrayed her, and then quietly left the restaurant. Needless to say, I'm no longer seeing that girl. She rightly told me she didn't deserve to be in the middle of what she called 'a lover's spat' and broke things off.

"I was so angry at Pansy when I got home I went straight to her rooms to continue our fight, but she wasn't there, and she didn't come home that night, or since. So when I got her letter, I came straight over."

While he was talking, Hermione had sat down on the floor and leaned on her door. Though he never really looked at her while he talked, she couldn't take her eyes off him. The whole story—everything he'd done for Pansy—seemed too surreal. That he would; that he _could _be such a good friend flabbergasted Hermione. It was true that he'd changed; everyone knew that. Everyone knew the story of him joining and fighting for the Order. He was a hero, like Harry; and, like Harry, he shunned the spotlight.

They hadn't talked much during the War, and had certainly never become friends. There had been too much else to do; she'd barely seen him. So in her mind, he'd remained very similar to the Draco Malfoy she knew in school, and she figured only his allegiance had changed. He'd never tried to get close to anyone in the Order; he'd just stuck to his duties and performed them flawlessly.

So to have him sitting outside her flat, pouring out his heart and telling her very intimate details about his life, left her head spinning. Mostly with more questions.

"I had no idea you'd be so worried."

He just looked at her, and his eyes told her a story of long, worried hours and restless sleep, if that.

"I—I wanted to do what I thought was best for her. I had no idea she'd written you… she must have used the owl that delivered my mail yesterday. I'd asked her to let him go."

"She's very resourceful."

"I gather. Has she… tried anything like this before?"

He shook his head. "But she's threatened. That's why I've been so worried. I really, truly care about her, but I can't give her what she wants from me. I just can't. If I could, I would have, a long time ago. But… I can't make myself feel that way for her. I can't…" His voice trailed off and he put his head in his hands.

Hermione thought he might have been crying, though he gave no visible signs. She wanted to hold him, just as she'd held Pansy three days earlier. It was obvious he was in pain too. She stood up and walked across the hall and stopped just beside him; she didn't know what to do, exactly, so she put a hand on his shoulder.

He stiffened, and brought his hands away from his face. Then he looked up at her, his eyes red. Hermione removed her hand and stood awkwardly beside him until he looked away.

Then she said, "Well, let's talk. You don't want to take her back."

He shook his head. "I can't. I—I've done everything I can, but I don't think it's good for her to live with me."

"I agree. Look, she can stay with me. I was planning on keeping her awhile anyway."

The look he gave her then was mixed with surprise and gratitude. "Really?"

"Yes. The last thing she needs is to be around you right now. I've talked to Harry and Ron, and they've agreed to help me. I want to keep her away from you. She thinks you're perfect, basically. Nothing can touch you. I said one negative thing about you, and she nearly bit my head off. That's not normal; you know you're not perfect."

He chuckled sadly. "Thanks."

"Well, you know it's true. No one's perfect. Once I get her to realize it, I want to work on her image of herself. She's so much more than a girl willing to give up on life just because some bloke doesn't like her, and she needs to see that. I don't want her to see you for a very long time, as long as possible."

"Whatever you think is best," he said dully.

Hermione sat down on the floor beside his chair in a huff and sighed. "I think I can do this. But I'm not sure. I know it's going to be huge, and I just hope I'm up for it."

"Anything I can do to help, I'll do," Draco said quietly.

His words, though soft, were like a shout to Hermione, so different from the Draco she had grown up with, and she had to shake her head again at her present reality. Malfoy was sitting in _her _hallway, her _Muggle_hallway, offering her whatever she needed. True, it was for his friend who was sitting inside Hermione's flat, probably wringing her hands in anticipation of seeing him again, but still…

She sighed. "I don't think it would be good for you to be around."

"I know that," he said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I meant money. Or supplies._Whatever_ I can do."

"Oh. Well, thank you. But I don't think that will be necessary."

"Granger, she's going to be difficult."

"I can tell."

"She's going to be really angry about not coming home with me."

"I know."

"She's very resourceful, like I said before. You're going to have to—"

"Malfoy, I get it. I fought Death Eaters, remember? I think I can handle Pansy."

"Those two things are not nearly the same."

Hermione gave a half-smile. "I know that as well. But I have some experience in this area. I was in Healer training for a few years."

He raised an eyebrow. "I take it you are not a Healer, then."

"No. It didn't work out," she replied quickly, not anxious to discuss the specifics. "Regardless, understand that I'm not going into this completely blind. And Harry and Ron have already made me promise not to get in over my head. I _will _get help if I need it."

"And who is going to be the judge of whether or not you need help? You?"

"I'm sure Harry and Ron will be watching me closely."

He looked at her, sitting on the floor beside him, and smiled; a tired, desperate smile, and she didn't even see it, but he meant it. "I do not doubt that you truly want to help, nor do I doubt that you believe you _can._ I don't even know what to say. There's no way I can adequately express my thanks."

"I haven't _done_anything yet. Save the praise and accolades until there are results."

He chuckled. "I don't even know what to think, what to _do _now. None of this has quite sunk in."

"Pick up with your life. Try and get that girl to go out with you again."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I don't even think I really liked her. I just needed—out. Away. And she was a good enough reason."

"Fine. Then go find some other girl to go out with you."

He looked at her, and this time she was looking at him _and _smiling. He was pretty certain it was because of how raw he felt, and hesitant, relieved, and terrified, that he was suddenly struck by how very little he really knew about Hermione. She seemed very different than she had in school—more relaxed—and even during the war, despite the fact that they'd never been friends.

"I'm not bowing out. I need you to know that. I truly do care about her, very much. This is only temporary."

"Of course, I know that, Malfoy. You don't want her out of your life completely; you just need a break from her for a while. And she needs a break from you. I hope that the next time you see her, she's feeling better."

"Me too. Will you keep me informed of what's going on with her?"

"I suppose I can do that."

"Please. Write to me and tell me of her progress."

She nodded. "I will. Only you can't write back. If she sees your handwriting, or your owl, I don't know what effect that might have."

He frowned. "Okay. What do I do if I absolutely have to get in touch with you? Say, for example, in an emergency."

"You could use the method of instant communication employed by the Order during the war."

He nodded. "All right." He stood and Vanished the chair, then held out a hand to help Hermione to her feet as well. Only he pulled a little too hard, and she crashed into him.

"Sorry!" she said hastily, and backed away as though he might burn her.

"My fault," he said, avoiding her eyes.

They stood in the hallway for a few moments, neither sure what to do or say next, or if anything really needed to be done or said. Draco seemed highly interested in a picture hanging in the hallway, and Hermione concentrated on a few spots of dirt on her door. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"I'd better get going, she's probably making up all kinds of stories about what we're doing out here." She regretted it instantly.

Draco turned red, which was not at all a flattering look against his pale complexion. He mumbled something, and started as if to walk down the hall. He'd taken two steps when he turned around, any embarrassment he'd felt gone.

"I don't suppose you'd let me say goodbye to her, would you?"

"No, sorry."

"Right." He nodded to himself, staring hard at the floor. "But you'll write."

"Yes, Malfoy. Now go, already."

"Bye, Granger."

"Bye."

She watched him walk to the end of the hallway and press the down button for the lift. He tapped his foot randomly as he waited, his hands in his pockets. Only then did she notice that he'd worn Muggle clothes—grey pants and a black, long-sleeved button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. Even when he'd spent three days worrying for his friend, he still managed to appear put together.

He must have felt her staring, because he turned around. She quickly looked forward, but did nothing but stare at the doorknob. Hermione heard the ding that indicated the lift had arrived. She listened as the door slid open, and he took the two steps required to get inside, and the doors slid shut. She shut her eyes tight and opened the door.

**ooo**

Pansy was sitting on the sofa when Hermione returned. She'd been waiting for nearly twenty minutes. When she saw Hermione she stood up, anxiously peering around the other witch for the person she really wanted to see. Hermione closed the door behind her and looked at her.

Pansy sat back down on the sofa and Hermione walked over to the chair. She sat and faced Pansy.

"He's not taking me home, is he?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"Why not?"

"We both thought it would be best if you not see each other for awhile."

Pansy nodded slowly, a swirl of panic building in her gut. She could feel her heart beat get faster, and it suddenly felt much warmer than it had a moment earlier. "Why?"

"It's upsetting to you. He wants you to know he cares very much for you, and he wants what's best for you. Right now, that isn't living with him. You're going to stay with me until you feel better. Okay?"

Pansy frowned. "I—I want to see him."

"You will, just not tonight. Or for a few weeks, maybe, or months. It depends."

"Months?" Pansy exclaimed. "Months! You cannot be serious!"

"I am. I know you're probably going to be angry with me, but I'm doing this for you."

Pansy crossed her arms and slouched in her seat. She knew—she knew—she knew. But she couldn't quite be there right now. She needed him, she needed him, she didn't know how to be without him. And she knew—she _knew—_this was good. But she hated it all the same.

"I hate you," she said, and stormed out of the room.

**ooo**

The next morning, after she'd awakened and had time to think, Pansy found Hermione at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea. She sat down across from her; Hermione didn't look up from the newspaper.

"I don't hate you."

"I'm glad," she replied, without taking her eyes from the paper.

"What did he say?"

Hermione set the paper on the table and took the cup in both hands, looking at Pansy. "He told me a lot of things. About the two of you. Why you were living with him, what's been happening." She paused and took a sip. "I want to hear your side too, Pansy. I want to understand, I really do."

Pansy nodded. "I know."

"Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here, okay?"

She nodded again. "What did you eat for breakfast?"

"Oatmeal. Would you like me to fix you a bowl?"

"At Draco's, I always had shirred eggs and rusks."

"I don't have those things. It's oatmeal or nothing, I'm afraid."

"Oatmeal, then."

**ooo**

It was an entire week before Pansy talked to Hermione again. She slept a lot. When she woke up, she would eat, wander around the flat looking for something to do, sometimes take a bath, and then fall back into bed. Hermione knew it was because she was depressed, so she tried to be understanding, but she was getting discouraged. She'd asked if she could work from home for a few weeks, and her boss approved the request. But she just wasn't getting anywhere with Pansy.

Harry and Ron came over a few times during the week, to bring her food, or DVDs, or to give her a break. She would walk around her block, thankful for the spring air and the chance to be outside.

Hermione was sitting at the table eating dinner when Pansy came and sat down. Without a word, Hermione got up and fixed Pansy a plate, set it down in front of her, and resumed her own meal.

Pansy picked at her food for a few minutes and then sighed. "We were supposed to get married."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yeah," she replied, a far-away look in her eye. "He asked me when we were five and I said yes. We told our parents, and they said we had to wait until we were older. But he promised. Then, our parents made it sort of official, right after we started Hogwarts. I think they were all thrilled at the opportunity to have such a potentially complicated thing as the marriage of their children over and done with."

"It was arranged?"

"Yes, to the extent that we both said we wanted it. Naturally, if either of us wanted out, it would have been allowed, but I knew I never would. We… tried. To be a real couple, but it really didn't work. We were so young, and had no idea what love was all about. How can you know, when you're five, if you want to spend your life with someone?"

Hermione nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she'd destroy whatever was giving Pansy the ability to say all that she was saying.

"All through school, I adored him. He was perfect. He always said the perfect thing, did the perfect thing. And he was so smart!" Pansy smiled. "And the most good-looking bloke at Hogwarts."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "I would have to say you were biased in that regard."

"You disagree?"

Hermione laughed. "Pansy, I did not find him attractive in the least in school."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's true. I'm sure I'm not the only one who felt that way. But let's not argue. Please, continue your story."

Pansy nodded. "Anyway, as I was saying, we tried. Fourth and fifth years. It didn't work well, and he was always getting annoyed with me, but I tried really hard. Probably too hard. When sixth year came around, I was all ready to be perfect for him. Only… he had, you know, joined the Death Eaters, and he didn't really have time for me. Or anything. I waited, all through the War, for him to return to me, and when it finally ended and he took me in, I thought for sure it would happen.

"We would finally get married. Things were going smoothly, but…" Pansy looked at Hermione and she had tears sitting in the corners of her eyes. "He didn't fall in love with me."

Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Pansy's hand.

"I knew it, too. There was one night when I thought he was going to kiss me, and I, I leaned in, but he just said my name. In that way that says he's sorry I got the idea he wanted to kiss me, that he hates that he's having to say that he can't. And then he pulled away, only not completely, just enough that I _knew_, you know? I knew he didn't feel the same. And, well, it made me crazy.

"Just… thinking of him with other women. I got completely obsessive. I know I did, but I was okay with that. I thought I could win him back. If I just paid enough attention to him, just showed him I cared more than anyone else ever could, he'd realize we were meant to be."

Pansy chuckled. "That did not happen. I only drove him crazy, which meant he was always agitated and on the verge of blowing up at me all the time. He started avoiding me—not that I could blame him—so I started seeking him out. Sneaking looks at his planner, even following him a few times. Like the last time."

She started crying and Hermione handed her a tissue. "I knew he had a date, but I went after him anyway. I was so stupid! I made a whole bunch of ridiculous accusations, and basically forced him to tell me how he felt. Even though I already knew!" She blew her nose. "When he said it, when he really, actually, finally said it, I felt numb. I didn't know what to do.

"Everything in my life had revolved around him, and he just… said no. I don't even know where I went that night, or what I did. I wandered around in a fog and wound up on that bridge. When I came to myself, I figured I was supposed to jump. I really felt like I could, too, and it would be okay. No one would miss me, if Draco didn't."

Pansy looked at Hermione, her eyes red and watery, but clear. "He was all I had. I clung to him so, after my parents died, and… and I guess I never really got over that. He was just there. And I knew I had nothing else. But then I remembered that I love painting, and then you showed up."

She took a shaky breath and blew her nose again.

Hermione smiled and stood up. She walked around the table and gave Pansy a hug, which only made her start crying again. Hermione just held her and let her cry, and she could tell that this time, it was different. It was more of a letting go. Pansy cried for another twenty minutes, great wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. Hermione couldn't help but cry too.

When Pansy's tears started to slow, Hermione gave her one last squeeze and returned to her seat. Pansy blew her nose three more times, then finally gave Hermione a weak smile.

"Hermione—" she started.

"Know what we're going to do tonight?" Hermione interrupted. She didn't need for Pansy to apologize. For anything. "We're going to watch sappy romance films, and eat ice cream and popcorn until we're sick."

Pansy frowned. "That doesn't sound like fun."

"Oh, it is, trust me. And we're also going to bash every single guy we've ever liked."

Pansy giggled. "So who are we bashing for you?"

Hermione smirked. "That information can only be obtained over double chocolate chunk, I'm afraid."

Pansy giggled again. "Okay, let's do it."

"Excellent. It's about time you had a real girl's night."

"Yes. Firewhiskey and darts with Draco doesn't really count, does it?"

"Uhm, no. Great. I'm going to get the films. Want to come?"

"Really?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I'd like that."

Hermione smiled. "Let's get four films and stay up 'til tomorrow morning!"

Pansy smiled too. And she felt okay.

**ooo**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! **


	2. Imaginings

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of his world.

**Note: **Thanks to my beta, kazfeist, for helping me through this one!

**ooo**

**Chapter Two – Imaginings**

A month passed. April had moved out of the way for May, the spring breezes were warmer, and when the day was sunny, it was absolutely beautiful. 

Hermione was walking home from the Prophet where she'd finished a rather unsettling meeting with her boss. She had used all of her sick and vacation time, and any other kind of time she could think of, until there was none left. She'd gone to ask for an extended leave, using time she had yet to earn, but her boss told her they couldn't hold her position.

She'd explained the situation, but he'd said he needed someone working on site. She could either come back to work, or he'd have to replace her. Highly upset and frustrated, Hermione told him she'd think it over and get back with him.

Now she was halfway home and feeling awful. She wanted to continue helping Pansy – she'd come a long way in just a month, but she had much further to go. However, Hermione was out of money and nearly out of options. She had only a small amount in savings, and it wouldn't last very long at all, perhaps another two months. Not nearly enough. And even then, Hermione would be faced with the same dilemma. Her very last resort … she refused to even consider it until there was absolutely no other choice.

It simply wasn't the right time for her to go back to work. Pansy still needed too much attention. The day after Pansy told Hermione all about her history with Draco, she agreed to allow Hermione to try and help her.

The first thing Hermione had done was to visit her former trainer, Matilda Maphet. After meeting with first Hermione, then Pansy, and finally both Hermione and Pansy together, it was decided that Pansy would continue to live with Hermione. In addition, Pansy would see Matilda weekly at first, then less frequently as she improved. Hermione was to provide Pansy with a structured routine that would gradually lead to her becoming fully independent. Matilda gave Pansy a few potions to take and though she trusted that Hermione was able to follow through on her intentions, she requested that Hermione see her occasionally to discuss things and get advice on where to go next. Hermione suspected that Matilda wanted to keep an eye on her, as well.

Draco had been right – she was proving to be _very _difficult, though for the most part through no fault of her own. All her life, there had been others to do Pansy's bidding. She had no idea how to take care of herself outside of the basics – bathing, dressing and eating food from a plate set in front of her. Even Draco had catered to her, apparently.

For the first few weeks, Hermione had focused on addressing this lack of education. She started by giving Pansy a few simple chores to do around the flat that needed doing every day. She made a checklist that Pansy marked after completing each chore. They were very simple: pick up her room, make her bed, take her own dishes to the sink.

Hermione hadn't anticipated Pansy's initial reaction – she'd cried. Then pouted, whined, and thrown a small temper tantrum, in short succession. Hermione had just watched with stunned amusement until Pansy looked up from the bed where she'd thrown herself and said, "You're not backing down." Hermione had shaken her head and Pansy had stood, wiped her eyes, and demanded the list.

Pansy didn't complete all three chores in one day until the fourth day. Hermione gave her a hug and congratulated her. That wasn't enough for Pansy, who'd been used to lavish praise for any and every thing she did. The next day, she did _none _of her chores, so Hermione added one: wash your own dishes, by hand.

Pansy had blown up at Hermione, who'd stood patiently until she stopped yelling. Then she told Pansy that if she did all her chores for a whole week, they'd have another movie night. Pansy didn't miss a thing.

For each of the next two weeks, Hermione added one big chore. The first was to clean her room; but Pansy didn't know how to clean without magic, so Hermione taught her about dusting and sweeping. The fourth week, Hermione added laundry to the list and taught Pansy how to wash clothes the Muggle way. And Pansy generally only had one to two loads to do per week.

Yet without fail, Pansy complained over every little thing. She made the chores stretch for hours when they could have been completed in less than one. Hermione did the same chores she required of Pansy, and quickly. She knew eventually Pansy would pick up on it and see that when she finished all her chores, she could spend the rest of the day however she wanted.

By the end of the first month, Pansy was doing most of her chores, and the complaining was dwindling. But chores didn't pay the bill, and Hermione had run out of money and if she didn't figure out that dilemma soon, she feared all her work would be for naught.

For her part, Hermione was handling the challenge very well; so far, at least. She was very concerned at first, but Pansy was so different from her previous charge that soon her nerves eased. Pansy's needs seemed very basic: structure, discipline, consequences, and friendship. Hermione could easily provide the first three, but she was reluctant about the last, even though it was probably what Pansy needed most: a friend who cared for her despite herself.

Sometimes she discovered Pansy crying and when she asked why, Pansy couldn't give a reason. Hermione would nod and pull her into a hug, holding her until she was finished crying.

Before she knew it, Hermione was outside of her door. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't paid a bit of attention to where she was. She smiled, remembering the look on Pansy's face the day before when she'd finished cleaning her room. She hadn't known Hermione was watching, of course, and so had allowed herself a moment of pride in her work.

With a sigh, Hermione opened her door. Ron was sitting in front of the telly, completely immersed in a Quidditch game.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said glumly, tossing her bag on the table.

"Hey," he said distractedly.

"Where's Pansy?"

"Her room, I think."

Hermione sniffed. "You know, you're supposed to be paying attention to her."

"I've got it under con—hey, what was that?" Ron shouted at the telly. "He clocked her with his bat! That's a bloody foul!"

She rolled her eyes and went to find Pansy. She was in her room, as Ron had said, pacing and wringing her hands. When she saw Hermione, she stopped, a worried expression on her face.

"How did it go?" she asked.

Hermione sighed and sat on the bed. "Not good. I basically have to go back to work or I'm sacked."

"Oh, no!"

"I guess I'll have to use my savings."

Pansy bit her lip. "Hermione, I've been thinking, and I have the perfect solution."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it's perfect! Draco will give you the money!" Pansy said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Truthfully, Hermione had already thought about asking him, but had quickly decided she didn't want to. Not at all. Maybe she would go to him for an occasional large expense, or an emergency, but not to completely support them. That went against everything Hermione was trying to do for Pansy. She couldn't expect to always turn to Draco for help. One day he'd get married and have a life of his own, and Pansy wouldn't be able to run to him when things got hard.

"No, Pansy. I won't ask Malfoy. I – I'll figure this out."

"But Hermione," Pansy said, sitting on the bed with her. "It's perfect! And I know he'd do it. He's so good that way."

"Pansy," Hermione said warningly. "Do I need to get out the list?"

The week before, Hermione had had Pansy write two lists, one with Draco's good traits, the other with his bad traits. Needless to say, the bad list was essentially blank. So Hermione made Pansy think of five things to put on it. They were: his hair is messy in the morning; he reads too much; he spends too much time playing Quidditch; he works too much; he doesn't talk enough.

Hermione had refrained from providing Pansy with her _own _top five list of Draco's faults. She was trying to be encouraging, after all.

"No," said Pansy. "But he really would do it."

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure he would. For now, I'll use some of my savings and see how this next month goes." She hadn't yet mentioned to Pansy that she hoped for her to get a small job soon; something part-time and not especially demanding. She'd broach that subject closer to its reality.

Pansy gave an exasperated sigh and said quietly, "Hermione, you're doing so much for me, and I can't do anything to thank you. All I can do is offer you Draco's money. He's taken care of me since my parents died."

"It means a lot to me that you're so willing to share his money," Hermione said with a laugh. "But you are not his charge, not really. He has been a very good friend to you over the last year and a half, but it's time for you to let go of your dependence on him. He's been wonderful, but you don't need him to care for you anymore. You can do it on your own, you know."

"He wouldn't be taking care of me, he'd be taking care of y_o_u," Pansy said quietly.

"I… I'm not exactly ready to be dependent on Malfoy." She shook her head. "No, not at all. If I have to return to work, then I'll just get Harry and Ron to start using their vacation time. Malfoy stays out of this."

"Is there nothing I can say that would convince you?"

"I don't think so, Pansy. I promise, if I absolutely need his help, I'll ask. But it will be my decision, and only in dire need. All right?"

"Yes. But – "

Hermione chuckled. "But nothing! This conversation is over!"

Pansy smiled shyly.

"Have you talked to Ron at all?"

"No, I was too worried about you."

"Come on, let's go interrupt his footballEither omit 'football' or change it to Quidditch game and ask stupid questions about what's going on."

"Ooh, and comment on how cute the players are!"

Hermione smiled. "Excellent idea."

**ooo**

Something good happened for Hermione a few days after meeting with her boss about money. She was all set to go into Muggle London, withdraw money from her savings account, and deposit it in her Gringotts account, when she received a letter on Daily Prophet letterhead.

_Hermione, _

_I meant what I said—you're one of a kind and impossible to replace. You're the best reporter I've got in three departments._

_I propose something of a compromise. You can work from home, but you won't be on the real headlining stories. I'll give you assignments that require research, but not a lot of personal interviews or interaction. What do you say?_

_I understand your situation, and I respect what you're trying to do. I just hope it gets done sooner rather than later._

_Charles  
Chief Editor _

Hermione had responded immediately, agreeing whole-heartedly to work from home. Her salary would remain the same, and she might even have more work to do, but the assignments would be less physically and emotionally demanding.

Over the next month, Hermione added more chores to Pansy's list as she had discussed with Matilda Maphet: clean the bathroom, clean the living room, clean the kitchen, and cook.

Pansy protested heavily against cleaning the bathroom. She said it was for servants and no pureblooded witch of her standing should ever have to clean one. Hermione very calmly told her that pureblooded witches who couldn't afford servants had no choice but to clean the bathroom. Pansy still refused.

Hermione dragged Pansy into the bathroom and forced her to sit on the loo while she showed her how to clean each fixture. Pansy outright refused to help and made snide comments the entire time. When Hermione finished, she flicked some of the dirty water from the sink in Pansy's face. She completely lost it and started screaming at Hermione, following her through the flat while she put away her cleaning supplies.

Finally, she turned around to Pansy and said, "A little dirt isn't going to kill you. I just proved it. So get over yourself and next time, _you're_ cleaning your bathroom. You're really going to hate it in a few weeks if you don't. And I'm not doing it again."

The living room she didn't mind cleaning, as she just had to dust and sweep, like in her bedroom. The kitchen was more work, so she complained about it. There were appliances to worry about, and things to move. She hated putting away dishes out of the dishwasher, cleaning the sink, and scrubbing the counters.

At the end of the third week, Hermione was sick and tired of her whining and refusal to work. She did chores sporadically, and never with a pleasant attitude. So that Saturday evening at dinner, Hermione talked to her.

"But Hermione," Pansy whined. "I'm not any good at this. And it's kind of degrading, too. Why should I have to do all this work?"

"Pansy," Hermione began calmly. "You said a few weeks ago that you had no way to pay me back. That's not true; you could do these small chores for me. You cannot stay here forever. Eventually, you're going to have to get a job and your own flat, and take care of yourself." Pansy started to speak but Hermione wouldn't let her. "Malfoy is _not_ going to always take you in."

"He's going to get married one day, Pansy. He's going to have a family. You're not going to be able to run to him whenever things don't work out for you. You need to learn to stand on your own, and that's what I'm trying to teach you. Not only the skills you'll need, but I really want you to _see _and understand that you don't need him. You_can _take care of yourself, you just choose not to."

Pansy looked at her plate and pushed her potatoes around. "I have noticed my bathroom isn't spotless anymore like you kept it."

"Right. And it's up to _you _to change that.

"But – "

"No buts, Pansy. Unless you marry someone very rich, you're not going to have servants. Or house elves. You're going to need to know how to do all of these things." Pansy frowned and tears pricked her eyes. "You aren't going to marry Malfoy," Hermione said gently. "I'm sorry, but it's true. You _know _that, you've somewhat accepted it. You still hold on to hope that you will, but deep down you know that it will never happen."

"I _do _know that," Pansy said softly.

Hermione squeezed Pansy's hand. "I know you do. But I think sometimes you forget." Pansy nodded. "How many pureblooded witches do you know that can scrub a bathtub?" Hermione asked jokingly.

"None."

"That's a skill, Pansy. If any of those other witches suddenly found themselves with no money, they would be completely helpless. Do you want to be helpless?"

"No."

"And let's say you_don't_ marry a wealthy wizard. You will never again be helpless, you'll always be able to take care of yourself, and provide for yourself. And cook for yourself."

Pansy looked up. "Cook?"

"Yeah." Hermione nodded. "Next week you're going to learn."

Pansy scrunched up her nose. "But cooking is – "

"But that doesn't matter! Remember? Cooking is fun, you can do anything you want, and you don't have to wait, or ask someone else to make food for you. Just think, one day you'll be able to prepare a meal for your husband. He'll be thrilled beyond belief, trust me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Most men like to eat. And he'll appreciate the effort required to prepare a meal. Again, even if you never _have _to cook, you _can_. Or, you will be able to, after a few weeks."

Pansy sighed heavily. "Okay."

"I promise to make it as enjoyable as I can. Now, can we talk about your chores?"

"I'll do them, I promise."

"If you do them all next week, we'll do something special. What do you say?"

She nodded and smiled. "I don't want to be useless."

"You aren't."

"What are we going to do? When I do all my chores, I mean."

Hermione smiled. "It'll be a surprise."

**ooo**

Hermione was amazed but at the same time she wasn't when Pansy did every single chore without complaint. Given the proper motivation, anyone can do what is asked of them, but she still expected Pansy to grumble. And they had a great time in the kitchen. It turned out that Pansy had really liked Potions, but had never been able to stick to the very strict directions in preparing them.

Since cooking was less of an exact science, she really enjoyed it. She asked Hermione if she could choose a recipe for Friday night and make it all by herself, to which Hermione gave hearty approval. She chose a simple but delicious lamb recipe, and for the first time, Hermione was given full access to how she felt about her accomplishment. Pansy was literally glowing as they ate. She raved about how good it felt to do something all by herself, something that was really good.

When they'd finished eating, Pansy cleared the table and surprised Hermione with dessert, a tray of treacle brownies.

"I was hoping I could bribe you into telling me what we're doing tomorrow night," she said as she set the tray on the table.

Hermione laughed. "Well, okay. How can I resist? We're going to dinner and to see a film with Harry and Ron. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful! I've never been to a theatre before."

"I figured as much. We're meeting them at seven. Oh, and we're to dress nice, Harry told me. He picked the restaurant and said it's very elegant."

"It… sounds an awful lot like a weird kind of date," Pansy said, hesitation written on her face.

"Oh, no, of course not. They're my friends! Ron's seeing someone anyway, and Harry… well, he's my best friend. They're doing this because they care, about me and you, too. It's just two blokes doing something special for two girls. Strictly 'friends only'. Besides, when's the last time you got to get all dressed up?"

"I can finally do your hair!" Pansy squealed.

"Right," Hermione said, with barely concealed dread.

**ooo**

Pansy was so excited about leaving Hermione's flat on Saturday that she didn't mention Draco's name once all day – in Hermione's hearing, anyway. Usually she talked about him every day, multiple times. Hermione felt like giving her a prize just for that small victory.

Two hours before they were to meet Harry and Ron, Pansy tackled Hermione's hair. Hermione just smiled and talked pleasantly while Pansy wrestled with getting it under control. She had assured Hermione that she had 'just the thing' to tame her wild hair, but as Hermione had already discovered, nothing worked. Even Pansy's 'just the thing.' So she ended up scrambling last minute, resolving to style Hermione's hair in a seemingly haphazard way.

Hermione had selected a light blue dress to wear, Pansy a pink one. While Hermione didn't care too much how she looked, Pansy did. She spent nearly an hour getting ready, and Hermione resigned herself to Apparating in order to be close to on time for dinner.

When Pansy was finally ready, at ten minutes after seven, she joined Hermione in the living room.

"Wow, Pansy, you look really pretty."

Pansy smiled bigger than Hermione had ever seen her smile before. "Thank you. I feel pretty. I feel – different, too. Like I could take on the world. I think I'm ready."

"Good!" Hermione said with a smile. "Because we're late. Come on, you'll have to Side-Along."

They arrived in the lobby of a very nice wizarding restaurant in the heart of London. A stiff-looking wizard in stark black robes led them to a table where Harry and Ron were already seated. When they saw Hermione and Pansy, they both stood and greeted them. Pansy sat by Harry and Hermione beside Ron. The wizard took their drink orders and left.

"So," said Harry with a warm smile. "We have something to celebrate, as I understand it."

Hermione looked at Pansy who gave a small shake of her head, indicating that she didn't want to be the one to talk about it.

"Yes, we do," said Hermione, taking a sip of her water. "Pansy cooked dinner last night."

Both Harry and Ron looked surprised and Ron said, "Really?"

"Yes, Ron," said Hermione.

"How was it?" asked Harry.

"Excellent. She did a wonderful job."

"What did you make?" Ron asked Pansy.

She hesitated a moment, then with an encouraging nod from Hermione, said, "Lamb chops with apple jelly, asparagus, and creamed potatoes."

"Wow, sounds really good," said Ron.

"He hasn't eaten since lunch," Harry said, leaning over to tell Pansy.

"It was nothing, really. I actually had a lot of fun doing it." She looked at Hermione as though asking for permission, and she smiled. Pansy continued, "Maybe I could cook for you too, sometime."

"Sure," said Harry, smiling at Hermione. "Anytime."

"Really?" Pansy asked, looking at Hermione.

"Yeah, we're always up for food," said Ron, grinning at Pansy.

"Hermione, when can they come over?" she asked, getting excited.

"Whenever you'd like."

"How about…" Pansy started. Then her eyes got wide and she squealed. "Hermione! Let's have a party!"

"A party?" she repeated. Though she didn't want to show it, she was very pleased with Pansy's suggestions and thought a party would be a very good thing.

"Oh, yes, can we? I love throwing parties!"

Hermione laughed. "Of course, Pansy. But we'll actually do all the work, you realize."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. "We'll need a menu, and a guest list, and invitations…" she turned to Harry and Ron. "You two will come, of course, won't you?"

Harry nodded and Ron said, "Yeah, can I bring Suzette?"

"Oh, please do!" exclaimed Pansy. Hermione had never seen this side of her before, and it was highly amusing. This was the image she'd always had of Pansy Parkinson. Planning parties and wearing ball gowns and diamonds. It was part of Pansy she knew would never change.

"And Harry, you can bring a date too," Pansy said, somewhat stiltedly.

Harry's smile disappeared in a flash, and he looked at the table in front of him. Hermione and Ron exchanged a nervous glance. "I – uhm – yes, thank you," he mumbled.

Pansy looked at Hermione in horror and she gave her a reassuring smile. "When do you want to do it, Pansy?" she asked.

"Uh, we'll need a few weeks," Pansy replied, still very much aware that Harry had fallen completely silent and seemed to be diminishing beside her.

"Sounds great," said Ron. Hermione saw him kick Harry under the table. He looked up and mumbled his assent, then excused himself. When he returned a few minutes later, he acted as though nothing had happened. Hermione and Ron had assured Pansy she'd done nothing wrong, and to relax.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, if not strangely. Harry was almost back to normal, and even though Pansy didn't forget what had happened, she managed to act like it anyway.

The movie was good, but Hermione knew by how much Pansy was fidgeting that she was quite anxious to talk about what had happened at dinner.

Hermione hadn't taken two steps into her flat before Pansy spoke. "Hermione, what did I do?"

Hermione sighed and set her purse and jumper on the sofa. She sat to remove her shoes and ungraciously put her feet on the coffee table. Pansy was once again wringing her hands.

"Have a seat."

Pansy sat.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Pansy. I suppose I should have told you, but I never imagined it would come up. It – it's hard to say. You know Ginny died during the War. Well, Harry hasn't been the same since. He hasn't dated anyone. I think Ron talked him into a double date, maybe six months ago, and it was a disaster."

Pansy's eyes were wide. "Oh, I had no idea! I mean, I knew Ginny had died, but – that was what, two years ago?"

"Yes. It hit him really hard, and he's never quite recovered. You know, he was an orphan, forced to live with an aunt and uncle who never cared one bit for him. Those that love him for himself, for who _he _is—just_Harry_—are quite precious to him. Ginny had him in her heart from the moment she met him, when she was ten years old. And when they finally got together, it was probably the happiest Harry has ever been. And since…. You did nothing wrong, Pansy, believe me. He just doesn't like to be reminded that there is such a thing as dating, and all that."

"Wow. He really loved her so much that he's still not over her death?"

"Yes, absolutely." Hermione sighed. "I don't want you to feel bad, though."

"Okay, I won't."

"I hate it for him. He's mostly normal with Ron and me now, but it's taken a long time. After she died, he shut everyone out and focused on destroying Voldemort. After he did, he just left. Didn't tell anyone where he went, didn't contact anyone for nearly six months. He showed up at Ron's house one night, thin, sick, and half-dead.

"The Weasleys took him in and took care of him, and he's slowly improved since then. But _very _slowly. And that date Ron made him go on set him back a bit."

"He's seemed okay, every time he's been here."

"I know," Hermione said calculatingly. "He's okay with me and Ron. I guess he's okay with you, too."

"I feel really bad."

"Don't! You said you wouldn't. I'm glad he's going to come to the party. It's a huge step."

Pansy looked down at her hands and started turning her ring around her finger. Hermione knew what was coming and she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Hey, can we invite Draco?"

Hermione sighed. "No, Pansy. I think it's too soon."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I think I'm ready to see him, I do," Pansy insisted.

"I don't think so. I agree you're doing much better, and I promise you'll see him again. But it's too soon."

"Are you sure?" Pansy asked, her voice pleading.

"Yes. It's final. We can talk about the guest list tomorrow."

"But – "

"Pansy, you're going to see him again. But not in three weeks."

Pansy bit her lip. "Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering…. Would it be possible for me to get my painting things? I'm not asking to go over there, not asking to see him…. Maybe you could write to him and ask for them? And he could send them through the owl post."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds perfectly reasonable."

"So you'll write and ask him?"

"Yes," Hermione said with a practiced sigh.

"Thank you!" Pansy said, grinning. "Goodnight!"

When Pansy had disappeared into her room, Hermione sat slumped on her sofa, in her nice dress, for ten minutes trying to decide what would indicate to her that Pansy was ready to see Draco again. Nothing came to her—no time seemed good. Finally she went to her room and changed into her pajamas. She sat down at her desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment to write Draco.

She had kept her word, and had written him at least once a week. At first, it had felt awkward to write him, as they'd never written before and weren't even friends. Hermione's first letters were only about Pansy's progress.

That changed after making the arrangement with her boss about her working situation. , Hermione was so happy and relieved that she wouldn't have to use her savings after all that she'd told Draco about it—the entire story in detail—in her letter that week.

After that letter, she increasingly put more of herself into what she wrote. In fact, except for the signature and the greeting, she could easily let herself forget they were even letters at all. She got lost in the freedom and just wrote, as if to a life-long friend.

In one of her earliest letters, she'd asked Draco to keep all of her correspondence, as she intended to use them as a kind of journal of her work with Pansy.

She was proud of what Pansy had accomplished that week and, with a smile, picked up her quill to begin.

_Draco,_

(She'd started writing "Malfoy," but after the letter about her job, Hermione felt strange addressing him with his surname.)

_What an incredible week this has been! I told you previously of my deal with Pansy, and she not only fulfilled her end, but she didn't grumble. Not once! I was extremely pleased._

_We started cooking this week. On Sunday, we made a very simple boxed dinner; Monday, a simple recipe. But by mid-week, she was having so much fun we picked a really hard one. And it turned out perfectly! She truly has a gift in the kitchen._

_It's such a shame that the very wealthy families – Muggle or wizarding – don't give their children the chance to learn these simple and invaluable skills! But I shall not bore you – _again – _with my thoughts on that subject. Should you wish to refresh your memory, see letters five through nine._

_Thursday night Pansy asked if she could make dinner all by herself on Friday and I of course said yes. She did a smashing job, but what touched me most was how proud she was in what she'd done. She set the table herself, and even put on a few decorative touches for a centerpiece._

_As per my end of the deal, I asked Harry and Ron to help me, and they planned a lovely evening out, dinner and a movie. Pansy was pure energy all day today, so thrilled was she to be going out._

_I had told Harry we were celebrating and he asked about what. When I told he and Ron that Pansy had cooked, she was at first very shy about it. But Harry and Ron – bless them for being so good to me, and in turn, Pansy – showed much interest, and before I knew it, I'd been roped into planning and putting on a party with Pansy. Only we're to do everything ourselves, unlike any of the parties she'd previously been involved with._

_And so, I must ask a favor of you. I beg that you would help me in this matter. I must ask that you stay away from the paper shops in Diagon Alley over the coming week, as we shall be selecting invitations. I know how much this will affect you personally and I truly appreciate your cooperation._

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the thought of Draco frequenting paper shops.

_And I regret to inform you that you that you shall not be getting an invitation. Pansy asked, so I knew it was too soon. This is the issue that most concerns me, as you well know. How will I know when the time is right for her to see you again?_

_She talks about you constantly still. I know that my excuses and reasons are running out. It's been nine weeks and I know she must see you soon._

_But when? Where? Under what circumstances? Should I be there? Should I definitely _not_be there? Should _anyone _be there at all?_

_I must confess: I wonder where you read these letters. Do you have a fantastic library, with rich, dark wood and warm colored walls? With endless rows of books in all colors? Do you sit at a desk, or in a comfortable chair?_

_Do you read them immediately? Or do you wait? Do you sip a glass of wine while you read, in your library, in front of a roaring fire?_

_Perhaps you read them at work – wherever that is – in a stiff, black leather chair behind a cold, metal desk. Large windows, floor to ceiling, are at your back, a breathtaking view on their other side._

_I write at a small, wooden desk in my room. It's in front of the window; my view is of a street corner. I have a cup of tea beside me – Earl Grey, one lump of sugar, no milk._

_She shall have to see you soon, I think. So be prepared for it._

_Our party is to be in three weeks. I'll not add anything to Pansy's chore list, as we'll need to concentrate our efforts on the planning. I have a feeling Pansy is something of a perfectionist – which I of course know _nothing_ at all about – and every detail will have to be considered. I'm looking forward to this myself. I've never been a big fan of parties, but a small, elegant dinner party sounds positively lovely!_

_Do not worry, as I always tell you. She improves daily. I know you think of her often, and I thank you for that. This has been a life-changing experience for me – for both of us – and I have gained a true friend._

_As always, until next time,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. Would you send over Pansy's painting supplies? She asked for them today, and I think it's a wonderful idea for her to get back in to her hobby. Thank you!_

**ooo**

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! More to follow soon!


	3. Interruptions

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Potter...

**Note:** Thank you, thank you to my beta, kazfeist, for your awesome help!

**ooo**

**Chapter Three – Interruptions**

The next three weeks flew by. Hermione continued to regulate Pansy's potions, making sure she took them. Draco had sent Pansy's things promptly, but she hadn't even taken them out of the box, as she and Hermione were so busy planning the party. They started with a guest list, and Hermione smiled when Pansy didn't mention Draco. The invitees were: Harry, Ron, Suzette, Hermione, Pansy, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, three people Hermione didn't know, then Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati. Sixteen total. It would make a decent crowd, and, with a bit of magical expansion, Hermione's flat would accommodate the number.

The menu was to be simple yet elegant finger foods, and Pansy was positively skipping she was so excited. Flowers had been ordered, china, crystal and silver rented – Pansy _insisted_ – and a selection of spirited background music selected.

Pansy had the furniture removed from the sitting room – the sofa, two comfortable chairs, a few tables and the television – and replaced with two sleek, leather sofas and three bar-height tables. There would be enough room for all sixteen guests, should they choose to occupy the room all at once. The dining room was expanded, and the table lengthened to hold sixteen. All of the chairs in Hermione's flat, plus two end tables, were transfigured to match the current dining chairs.

Hermione and Pansy spent a few hours of the day before the party working on the seating plan. They were both worried that if left to their own devices, their guests would seat themselves by house, Gryffindors on one end, Slytherins on the other, and with Pansy's non-Hogwarts friends in the middle. So they worked to make sure everyone was seated beside someone _not _in his or her own house.

The evening before, Hermione and Pansy made all of the desserts for the party. The next day, they started right after breakfast making all the food. Pansy had created a menu, and Hermione had adjusted all of the recipes for sixteen. She made a master shopping list and a master resource list, which indicated the major kitchen equipment needed by each recipe, temperature if appropriate, and for how long. Then she created a schedule for the day of the order in which they would make each recipe.

It was quite a production.

Harry and Ron arrived early to help with any last minute things. Harry helped Pansy arrange the finger foods on platters, and Ron helped Hermione set up the bar.

Before they knew it, their fist guest arrived, and then a steady stream of door knocks continued until the last guest, Blaise Zabini, made his grand but late entrance.

Dinner was a resounding success, and Hermione smiled as each of her friends talked amiably with their neighbours. She was presently speaking with Blaise, who was seated on her right. He had joined the Light at the same time as Draco had, but he'd made the effort to get to know his new side. He and Hermione had become friends.

"Where's Draco?" he asked, leaning over to whisper his question.

"He couldn't make it," Hermione replied.

"Ah. Too bad. I haven't seen him in a few weeks."

"Oh?" Hermione said, sounding more interested than she liked.

"Yeah. Last time was at a Quidditch match. He said he's been really busy with work and hasn't been around to Diagon Alley lately." Blaise worked for the Apothecary developing new products.

"Maybe he's got a girl," Hermione said jokingly.

Blaise frowned. "No, he doesn't. Believe me, that was the first thing I asked and he denied it. But, now that I think about it, he _did _behave the way he does when he likes someone. I didn't think to ask him that, as I would assume if he liked someone, he'd be dating her."

"What do you mean? You can tell he likes someone by how he acts?"

"Yeah. I've known Draco a long time. He's different when there's a girl in the picture, though usually, as I said, it's because he's actually seeing her. I can't really describe it … he's more sure of himself. And he laughs more."

"Just what the world needs," Hermione said with a smile. "A _more _confident Draco Malfoy."

Blaise chuckled. "True. But trust me, it's in a good way."

"Do me a favor, Blaise, and keep quiet about your theory. The last thing I need is for Pansy to catch wind that Malfoy fancies someone."

"Right. Sure thing."

Just then, Theodore called her name, so Hermione turned to talk to him.

The rest of the party went smashingly. Not a moment passed where someone felt awkward, and everyone raved about the food. Pansy was absolutely in her element – accepting the compliments graciously, while at the same time encouraging them and giving acknowledgement to Hermione.

After dinner, they moved into the sitting room, where dessert was served. Hermione carried trays of delicious morsels Pansy had created around the room, stopping to talk each guest in turn. She was pleased at seeing her friends mingling with former rivals, and she was nearly certain she'd heard Seamus and Daphne making plans for the next weekend.

Hermione wasn't one to desire the spotlight, but Pansy sure was. Every time Hermione looked for her roommate and friend, she found her talking to someone new, laughing, and positively glowing with delight.

Hermione smiled and went into the kitchen to retrieve another platter.

"Hermione," said Harry, making his way toward her.

"Hi Harry! Are you having a good time?" she asked, knowing he wasn't always comfortable in crowds.

"Yes, fine. Pansy needs more of the truffles. She sent me to get them."

"Oh, right. Here you go." She handed Harry a pretty crystal bowl stacked high with the chocolate treat. She watched him snake his way through the crowd toward Pansy, who accepted the bowl with a brilliant smile.

The party went well past midnight, the last guest, Harry, leaving at nearly two in the morning. Ron and Suzette had left without him, and Harry had stayed to help clean up. When Hermione had bid Pansy a goodnight, she went into her room and leaned against her door with a smile.

Pansy had done very well – perfectly, in fact. Soon, she hoped, thoughts of Draco would be few and far between.

**ooo**

The next morning, Hermione was up before Pansy, and she set a pot of water on the stove to heat. Then she returned to her room and was about to write Draco when there was a brief flash of light, and a piece of parchment floated onto Hermione's writing desk. It took her a moment to remember that this was the method she'd given Draco to communicate with her, in emergencies only.

Her heart skipped and she unfolded the parchment so quickly she almost tore it. She let out her breath after the first line: _No emergency._

She sat down at the desk to continue reading.

_Meet me around the corner at the cafe in ten minutes._

Hermione stared at the parchment for a few seconds, then burned it. She jumped up, threw on jeans and a shirt, a pair of shoes, and headed out of her room. She met Pansy in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea.

"Morning, Hermione," she said with a tired smile.

"Morning. I'm running around the corner for one of those pastries. I've got a craving. Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, one of the cream-filled ones, please," Pansy called as Hermione hurried through the flat.

"Okay!" she called, shutting the door behind her. As she waited for the lift, Hermione couldn't help but think that there was, in fact, an emergency, that he'd just _said _there wasn't so as not to alarm her. Why else would he need to meet with her so soon?

She reached the cafe in record time and found Draco sitting at an outdoor table with a plate of scones and the Daily Prophet. In broad daylight, in a Muggle neighborhood. Hermione walked straight to his table and snatched the paper away.

"Hey –" he started, then smiled when he saw who had offended him.

Hermione sat down across from him, completely flustered. "Have you lost your mind? What if someone saw?"

Draco took a sip of his tea and said, "To anyone else, it's charmed to look like the Muggle paper."

She felt a little silly. Surely he wouldn't be so careless as to read a paper with moving pictures in plain sight. "Oh."

"You okay?" he asked, frowning slightly.

The waiter came then and Hermione ordered a cup of Earl Grey. "Oh, and a vanilla-cream pastry and one of those twisted cinnamon stick things. To go." The waiter nodded and left.

Draco laughed. "Cream-filled for Pansy?"

"Yes," she said, her heart slowing to a normal rate. If there had been an emergency, he would have said something by now. And not looked so calm. "What did you want?"

Draco took his time in answering. He took a bite of scone and appeared thoughtful while he chewed. Slowly. Then he looked at her and opened his mouth to speak, but the waiter brought Hermione her tea. He waited while she added her lump of sugar.

"How was your party last night?" he asked after she'd taken a sip.

"Oh, it went very well."

"Good. How did Pansy do?"

"Perfect. Honestly, she surpassed even my expectations. She's really got talent."

Draco nodded. "I know. I'm glad she's finally seeing it herself."

Hermione smiled at him. "Me too."

He took a deep breath then. "Listen, what I wanted to ask you is this. Let me do something for you."

He looked away, down at his plate, which Hermione found odd. "What do you mean? I've told you, I'm doing fine with finances, and she's doing so well."

"No, not money, no. I – I just mean …" his voice trailed off and he looked to the street. "Let me take you to dinner."

She blinked, not quite sure she'd heard him right. "What?"

"Dinner," was all he said, still looking very much not at her. She was about to say something when he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. "It's just – I get your letters. And it's like a one-sided conversation. Sometimes, I want to say something back, but I can't."

She smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I really want answers to questions I ask."

"So you'll do it?"

"I don't know," she said. "If she were to find out…" Hermione shook her head. "It would be a bad thing, I think. She trusts me, finally, and that would completely undermine what I've worked so hard for."

"Why would she know?" he asked, "The only way she could possibly find out is if you or I tell her. And I assure you, I have no intention of telling her."

"Well, that's true, but still. What if you mention it to a co-worker, who mentions it to someone she knows, and – "

"Stop," Draco said, a wry smile on his face. "I wouldn't tell a soul. Besides, you could probably use a night away from your flat, away from her. I know you are probably friends by now, but she's still work to be around. It's my way of saying thank you, since you won't let me do anything else for you. I can give you a free night."

"Well …" Hermione said, starting to like the idea of a night 'off.' Having Draco there would be interesting to say the least.

"Honestly, the last time you had a really nice dinner was with her, Potter and Weasley. A good time, I'm sure, but even though you didn't mention it, I got the feeling things didn't go all too smoothly."

She stared at him, amazed that he could infer so much from the little she'd said about the night. Perhaps that had been it – usually she would have written a lot about such an important event. Slowly she smiled. "Well… you make a convincing argument."

"Then say yes. You've done so much for me, as well as Pansy. I can't simply not _try _to show my appreciation, and this is the best I could come up with. Besides, I can save your wrist for a week and you can just tell me about her progress instead of writing it."

"Oh, no, I want to write about it all. Wait – are you keeping my letters like I asked?"

"Of course," he said, as though it were a silly question. "What are you going to do with them, anyway?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe write a book. Maybe just toss them."

"I don't think I'd return them if you're just going to throw them out. But seriously, what do you say?"

Hermione took a deep breath. _If Pansy found out_… she shook her head; it wouldn't happen. She wouldn't even tell Harry and Ron what she was doing. She'd have to tell Pansy something, of course, but that was easy enough. She looked up at Draco who was watching her intently.

"I would have to tell Pansy I'm going on a date," she said nervously, avoiding looking him directly in the eye.

"Why?" he asked with an odd frown.

"She's been going on about me going out, and she would never suspect I'd be going on a date with you." It was true, but it didn't sound nice when she said it. "I don't mean that – "

"I know what you mean," he said quickly. "Whatever you have to tell her. Does that mean you'll come?"

"Yes."

He smiled at her, a warm smile that reached his eyes and made her shiver in the middle of July. "Good. It's the least I can do," he said, taking one last sip from his teacup.

"When are we going?" she asked, feeling oddly nervous.

His expression was very similar to the one he wore just before asking her to dinner. "Oh, uh, next weekend? Friday?"

Hermione did a quick mental check to make sure she was free. She nodded. "Friday night. I'll get Harry or Ron to come over and stay with Pansy. What should I wear?" At Draco's puzzled expression, and Hermione giggled. "I mean, should I wear a dress? How nice is the place?"

"Oh, of course. I'd say… three stars."

"Three stars?" she said with a smile.

The waiter came over and brought Hermione her pastries in a bag and handed Draco the bill.

Hermione accepted the sweets and rummaged through her bag. "How much is my part?" she asked.

"I've got it," he said with a wave.

"No, let me."

"No."

"Malfoy, seriously. I'm not going to let you pay for breakfast _and _dinner. I might just consider that this is adequate thank you, and bow out of the dinner invitation," she said with a playful smile.

His expression darkened at first, then he gave her a strained smile. "Don't want that. Your part is four pounds."

She frowned, unsure what she'd said to elicit such a reaction, and fetched the money from her change purse. She handed it to him and when he took it, their hands brushed. It was like the first time she'd had a crush on a boy – butterflies exploded in her stomach and the world seemed to stop for just an instant, until he took the money from her and retracted his arm.

Hermione hadn't expected such a reaction, and it took her a moment to recover. When she did, Draco was looking at her expectantly.

"What?" she said.

He smirked. "Your pastries. Don't forget them." He held the bag out to her, and she took it.

"Right. Thank you." She shook her head, and when she looked back at him, he was smiling nicely at her. She started to walk away, but then turned around. "Oh, Draco! What time?"

He looked surprised, then smiled that warm, shiver-inducing smile again. "Seven. Meet me here and we'll take a car to the restaurant."

"Okay," she said with a small wave. "See you then."

**ooo**

Hermione waited until Tuesday to tell Pansy she had a date that weekend. Pansy squealed and hugged her and asked a hundred questions. Hermione made sure Pansy knew that she wasn't overly excited about the date, that the bloke was just okay, but she thought she could use a night out.

Pansy completely agreed with the last statement and told her that even though she wasn't totally into the bloke that she should still get all dressed up and look pretty. She offered to do Hermione's hair, which she politely declined and makeup.

Because, "Merlin, Hermione, your eyes! I could do such wonderful things with them!"

Again, Hermione declined, only to be scolded by Pansy. "Hermione Granger. You are going on a date this Friday and you are going to act like it! I am doing your hair and makeup, and picking out what you'll wear. No buts! You're not doing this for _him;_ you're doing it for _you_."

Hermione had no choice but to give in.

As the week seemed to drag toward Friday, Hermione couldn't help but get nervous. It was _not _a real date she would be going on, but Draco had acted so strangely when he'd asked her to dinner. And since Pansy thought it was a date, she talked about it non-stop and Hermione increasingly _felt _like it was a date.

Friday night finally arrived and Pansy managed to successfully win a battle against Hermione's hair. Then she chose a purple, scoop-necked dress for Hermione to wear. It was sleeveless and went just to her knees. She lent Hermione a pair of her own shoes, with a white base, floral print and a beaded blossom on the top, and a light sweater should the restaurant be cold. Then she did her makeup.

"You look stunning," said Pansy, as she admired the finished product. "He's not going to know what hit him."

Hermione smiled nervously at her reflection, then at Pansy. She wasn't sure if she wanted to make _this_ kind of impression on Draco. She stood and gathered her purse; she could always remove the makeup and mess up her hair once she left.

Harry arrived soon after to stay with Pansy and Hermione left. She walked around the block to the cafe, but didn't see Draco. After a moment, a man in a black tuxedo approached her.

"Miss Granger?" he said formally.

"Yes," she replied.

"This way, please. Mr. Malfoy has asked me to escort you to the restaurant. He's running late and will meet you there."

"Oh, uhm, thank you."

The man led her to a car parked in the street. It was a slate grey color, and though she knew very little about cars, she knew it was an expensive one. It was Malfoy's; of course it would be very nice.

The man, whose name was James, opened her door and she did her best to climb gracefully into the backseat. Hermione always liked riding in wizarding cars; they rarely had to stop at traffic lights and always seemed to get to their destinations faster than normally possible.

The ride was no different, as less then ten minutes had passed when the car slowed. James got out to open her door. Hermione thanked him and reached for her purse, but he told her she needn't bother, as he worked for Draco.

Hermione bade him goodbye and went into the restaurant, a Muggle Italian place. As soon as she took three steps inside the door, she knew she was underdressed and mentally cursed Draco.

"May I help you?" drawled the maitre de.

"Yes, I'm meeting someone."

"Name, please."

"Malfoy."

The maitre de's entire attitude changed. "Ah, Miss Granger," he said with a smile. "We're delighted you've chosen to dine with us tonight. Please, follow me."

When they approached the table, Hermione saw Draco seated already, perusing the menu.

"Our best table," whispered the maitre de proudly. Draco looked up when he heard them approaching and nearly knocked over his water glass.

The man helped Hermione into her chair and left them alone.

"Hi," Hermione said shyly.

"Hi," Draco returned, a goofy grin on his face. "Merlin, you look incredible."

Hermione reddened and did her best to pretend he hadn't said it. "You told me wrong," she said in mock anger. "This is hardly a three-star restaurant. I should be in a ball gown, blinding everyone around me with dazzling diamonds and jewels."

"Nonsense," Draco said with a dismissive wave. "You look…perfect."

She couldn't look at him for fear she'd melt into a puddle. No one had ever complimented her so blatantly, and she wasn't sure what to think of it. She glanced at him, still looking at his menu, and decided he was pretty okay to look at himself. "Have you eaten here?" she asked, picking up her menu. "What's good?"

"I'm having the duck. And I've ordered a bottle of wine."

Hermione nodded. Her menu had no prices, which definitely indicated more than three stars. And she was in a knee-length, sleeveless purple dress.

The waiter arrived and delivered the wine – the best bottle they had – and took their dinner orders. Hermione chose the fish of the day.

When he was gone, Draco said, "Okay. Let's get business over with. How was your week?"

Hermione knew he meant her week with Pansy. "Fine. She did fine. I told her about my, uh, date, and she could think and talk of nothing else afterwards."

"I'm sure."

"She helped me get ready."

Draco looked at her closely. "Ah, yes. You don't usually bother with the face paint."

She couldn't help it this time; she reddened and looked away. "No."

"I – I didn't mean anything. It's nice, but honestly, I think it hides your eyes."

She looked up at him, relieved. "I thought so too! But Pansy insisted they were exquisite. I'm taking it off."

"Anything else to report?" he asked.

"No, nothing big happened. I added another, small chore to her list, but she barely even noticed. She's doing so well. I've written you…" Hermione pulled a small scroll from her purse and handed it to him.

"Smaller than usual," he commented.

She shrugged. "Like I said, not much to say."

He nodded and tucked it away in his coat, then pulled out a lengthy scroll; Hermione's eyes widened.

"What's that?"

He smiled. "I've addressed all of your points and answered all of your questions."

Hermione smiled back, surprised. "Merlin, that must have taken some time."

"All my free evenings this week. But don't worry, I'm not going to go through it all right now."

"That's good," Hermione said with a laugh.

Just a few I thought I'd share." He flipped through the parchment. "Ah, let's see. I prefer chocolates to candies."

"Me too!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I know," he said with a warm smile.

"Oh, right. Of course I told you that already."

"My favourite book is Crime and Punishment. I relate to the main character a little too well."

"You were never meant to be one of them," Hermione said, her voice full of kindness and understanding.

He nodded, not looking at her. "You're quite right about that." He looked at her then, and Hermione thought she saw something in his eyes, but it passed before she could identify it. "My favourite colour – green."

"Oh? Not black?"

"No," he said, chuckling. "Though I do like it. I was surprised at your favourite."

"Thought I'd go with my house colours?"

"Honestly… yes. Though, now that I see you in purple, I can understand why it's your favourite."

Hermione blushed – again. She smiled and bit her lip.

Draco watched her without comment then returned to his scroll. "And, to conclude this portion of our evening, I read your letters outside, in my mother's garden. There's a bench she always loved, and the light is perfect for reading. I save them and read them then, just before the sun sets, and I always have a cup of tea brought out to me." He was reading off his scroll, but Hermione got the distinct impression that he wouldn't be able to say it without reading. He appeared nervous – and it was understandable. She'd been sharing pieces of herself with him for weeks, and he hadn't. Now he was sharing them out loud, with her sitting across from him.

When he finished, he didn't look at her right away and rolled up the scroll. "This is for you," he said finally, handing it to her.

Hermione accepted it, feeling that when she did so, she was taking a part of him that no one had ever seen before, a part of himself he'd never shown to anyone. She'd asked many personal questions, never expecting anything in return.

And there was something that bothered her. "Draco, I can't take this home," she said reluctantly.

His expression became one of amusement. "Because of Pansy?"

"Yes," she replied, puzzled by his change of mood.

"Well, thank Merlin I paid attention in Charms," he said with a smirk.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I cast a spell so that only you can read it."

Hermione shut her eyes, slightly embarrassed.

"Never thought of that, did you?"

She smiled and looked at him. "No, actually."

"I don't suppose you'll let me write back to you, if I charm the letters?"

"No," she said firmly. "Pansy will notice your owl, or should you use an anonymous one, she'll notice that I'm getting more letters than usual. She'll wonder who they're from, and I don't want to lie to her."

He sighed. "I figured you'd say something like that."

The waiter brought their food then and refilled their wine glasses.

When he left, Draco said, "Tell me how you're doing."

"I've already told you, we're doing just fine."

"I didn't ask about you and Pansy, I asked how _you _are doing."

Hermione looked at him sideways. "You know how I'm doing, Draco. Just fine. I always tell you about me in my letters."

"I know, I just wondered if you hold back when you write. I want you to know you don't have to."

"Thank you, but actually, I tell you everything. It just…started happening that way."

He nodded.

"So tell me, because I'm extremely curious…do you work?"

"No." She made a disgusted sound. "At least, not like you're thinking, I'm sure. I run my family's business."

"Oh, so you're in and out of meetings all day and rubbing noses with big, important people."

"Basically. And there's this new sport I'm learning that Muggles play." Hermione looked at him with a curious look, because all of a sudden he sounded really excited.

"Muggles?"

"Yeah", he continued, his eyes shining. Perhaps they'd been doing that all night and she hadn't noticed, but she definitely did now. "We've got some Partner companies that are Muggle, and their top executives _love _this game. It's called golf, I'm sure you've heard of it."

Hermione was taken aback. "You like _golf_?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure, why not?"

"It's basically as far from Quidditch as a sport can get. Very slow, and methodical. I'm just surprised, is all."

"It's extremely relaxing, though. The grounds are incredible, and the skill required to hit that little ball … it's incredible. It sounds like such a simple thing, but it's not. I really like the carts too."

"I'm not at all surprised," she said with a grin.

"Did you know it was invented in Scotland?" he asked, sounding like a kid in a candy store . "I bought a set of clubs a few months ago so I wouldn't have to keep renting them from the country clubs. I think I'm getting better. But it's strange to play a game where you want to get the _lowest _score."

"Did _you _know that golf originally stood for 'gentlemen only; ladies forbidden'?"

He looked at her, frowning. "No. Seriously?"

"Yes. It was intended strictly for men."

"And _I _am not at all surprised that you know that," he said playfully. "But it's not all meetings and golf," he said.

She snorted. "Oh my, how _do _you deal with all your responsibilities."

"I have plenty of leisure time," he continued as though she hadn't spoken. "I spend it on research."

That piqued her interest. "Research? What kind of research?"

"Potions," he said, and she saw that shine in his eyes again. "This may sound, well, silly, but I want to leave my mark. I want to be remembered for something other than my last name. I want to _do _something; invent something."

"So, helping save the world from Voldemort wasn't enough for you?"

"I can't ride on that for the rest of my life," he said dismissively. "Besides, I have centuries of my family to make up for. It would be nice to invent something that would help people for centuries to come. Balance things out, if you know what I mean."

She smiled. "I do, yes. Have you got any ideas?"

He looked at her and for a moment, she thought he was trying to make sure she honestly wanted to know. Then he said, "Oh, actually, yes, I was thinking…

**ooo**

Hours passed like minutes and before either of them noticed, the restaurant had emptied. Their waiter came over and asked if they needed anything because the cook wanted to go home. Draco told him no, and apologized and promised to tip well. He and Hermione collected their things and left.

Once outside, Hermione wasn't sure what to do. They'd been in the middle of a good discussion, but she felt awkward at the thought of extending the evening. It would be something that might happen on a date. But then, at the same time, she never wanted it to end. She actually… _liked_ him. As a person and as a man. It was disturbing and frightening and wonderful all at the same time.

They were both standing there, waiting for the other to speak first. Hermione finally started to say goodnight, but Draco spoke first.

"Want to walk?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said quickly, eagerly.

They turned to walk beside each other and Hermione led him in the direction of her flat.

"So you really think they should require a class at Hogwarts that teaches these basic skills?" he asked, picking up their conversation where it had been interrupted.

"Yes, I do."

"But the chances of a witch or wizard needing to know how to wash clothes the Muggle way are very slim."

"If ever the aforementioned witch or wizard lost their wand, they'd be helpless. The class should teach basic survival skills without a wand."

"They already offer Muggle Studies."

"Which first of all isn't a required class, and second doesn't teach students _how_. It just explains the way Muggles 'cope' without magic. Honestly, when is a wizard ever going to need to know how a television works? Or how electricity works? Far more useful would be to know how to cook without magic, don't you think?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Well, I'm convinced."

She rolled her eyes.

"No, seriously! I agree with you. It I hadn't been there for Pansy after her parents died, she would have been in that very situation. I mean, she would have had her wand, but she never really learned basic _wizarding_ survival skills."

Hermione eyed him sceptically. "I think you're making fun of me."

"No!" he said insistently. "I'm truly not, I promise you. This isn't the first I've heard of this subject, if you'll recall, so I've had plenty of time to think about it."

After a moment more, Hermione said, "Okay, I believe you. I _have _been somewhat opinionated, haven't I?"

"Try five letters plus your thoughts tonight."

She smiled and without really thinking about what she was doing, Hermione linked her arm in his as they walked. He looked at her intently, but she was too busy to notice what she had done.

They walked all the way to the river and came to the Blackfriars Bridge. Hermione was grateful she'd transfigured her heels into comfortable walking shoes outside the restaurant. She told Draco she had to cross the bridge to get home, and they started over it.

Halfway, Draco stopped, frowning.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, stopping a few steps in front of him.

He looked down at her, a serious expression on his face. "Was this the bridge?"

She shook her head and walked to the railing and pointed. "It was that one, just there."

Draco came to stand beside her, not seeming to mind that their shoulders were touching. "Oh." A few moments passed in silence as he stared at the Waterloo.

"You know, at first, I thought about her all the time. What could I have done differently, could I have been a better friend? Should I not have tried to help at all, should I have tried harder to feel… differently toward her? I worried constantly for her."

Hermione hooked her arm in his again and he pulled her close. She could feel the exploding butterflies build in intensity as they stood there, and they'd been close before, as they walked. This was different, though; it was more of an intimate closeness. She'd moved beside him to comfort him and he'd accepted her offer, and wanted a little more.

"Then your letters started, and you said she'd be okay, and I believed you. I've come to trust you." He took a deep breath and continued. "And…now _you're _the one I think about all the time."

Now she felt on fire. Her heart seemed to stop for a brief moment, then resume pounding in her chest and she was thankful for the support he provided. She could sense that he wanted her to look at him, or do something, or _say _something. She looked up at him sideways, a smile stealing over her features.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Look at me," he said.

She finally turned toward him fully and realized just how close they'd been. He was looking down at her and peering through her eyes. She bit her lip thought she'd melt from the fire she saw in his eyes.

He reached up and brushed a curl out of her face. Then hesitantly, almost child-like, touched her cheek. Fireworks exploded at the point of contact. He slowly ran a finger along her jaw until his hand came to rest on her chin. He tilted it up and slowly brought his face down to meet her.

Just enough of Hermione's mind was functioning for her to say his name. "Draco."

He stopped his descent and she could feel his shoulders and sense his spirit slump. But he didn't move, just held his face mere inches from hers.

"Draco," she said again, this time more forcefully.

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. "Hermione."

"Can't," was all she could force herself to say.

"Pansy?" he asked.

She nodded, and the action caused his head to move too. He sighed and pulled back.

"Why?"

"There is no way I could do that to her. I can't – see you while I'm trying to help her get over you. That would not be right, it wouldn't be fair."

"I knew you'd say that. And part of me is glad you did – you wouldn't be the same girl I've come to admire if you hadn't."

She smiled at him.

"Is there... ever going to be a chance for us? Would you even want that?" he asked, leaning once again on the bridge railing.

"Things with Pansy would have to go... perfectly – swimmingly – for there to be a chance." She looked at him intently. "I wouldn't wait around for me, if I were you."

He turned to her and smiled. "I would. I think you're worth it."

Hermione joined him at the railing, this time keeping a safe distance between them. They watched a boat skipping over the black waters.

"When did this happen?" she asked. "When did you decide I was worth…any of your attention?"

He smiled ruefully. "Your letters. And everything you're doing for her. But your letters are straight from you, from your soul, from what makes you… you. It's incredible. _You _are incredible. I've never known anyone like you, and everything I read makes me anxious to know more."

Hermione was silent as she digested what he'd said. She hadn't really considered the consequences of her letters, but it appeared they'd had quite the effect on their reader. It was a lot to think about, and she couldn't help but think she'd really enjoyed her evening with him. She _still _didn't want it to end, though her head was telling her it was time.

"Draco… I should go."

He grunted and looked at her. "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"About… us. A chance?" he asked softly, not looking at her.

She smiled to herself, but shook her head sadly. "I think I would, but as I've said. Don't wait around."

Draco sighed. "I'm not terribly surprised, you know. Fortunately, I still have the ability to make decisions for myself." He stepped away from the railing and stuck his hands in his pockets. His tie was loose, and the top button of his crisp, white shirt unbuttoned; she thought him quite dashing, though it may have simply been the moonlight catching her at a weak moment.

"I – I'll see you." She started walking away, down the other side of the bridge.

"Hey!" he called, when she was just far enough away that he needed to yell. She stopped and turned around. "Do you want the car to take you home?"

"No, silly! I can Apparate home!"

He smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Right," he said to himself, waving goodbye to her.

Hermione Apparated two blocks from her flat. She wanted to be able to walk before having to see Pansy. She felt a little silly, caught up in an amazing evening with an amazing man, and near to tears because she couldn't have another such evening.

She reached her door finally, and took a deep breath before opening it. The flat was dark, which was strange; then she saw the blue light on the television and moved into the sitting room. She turned on the light and saw, to her complete surprise, Harry and Pansy on her sofa, scrambling away from each other and looking guilty and very thoroughly and recently snogged.

**ooo**

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! More soon!


	4. Finding Talents

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, no money is being made from this hobby, etc., etc., etc…

**Note: **Huge thanks to my beta, kazfeist, for all her wonderful work!

**Chapter Four – Finding Talents**

Hermione gawked as Harry ran a hand through his hair, his face the colour of Ron's hair, and Pansy looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, a nervous look on her face.

"Harry," Hermione said finally, when the awkwardness had become unbearable.

"Uh, hey, Hermione," he said, standing quickly. "You're back! I'm, uh, just going to go then." He took five steps toward the door, and then stopped. "Bye, Pansy."

"Bye, Harry," she called after him. Harry resumed his course and Disapparated once he was out of the room.

"Hermione, I can explain," Pansy started, standing and moving toward her.

Hermione held up a hand and Pansy stopped. "I… think we should talk about this in the morning."

Pansy nodded rapidly. "Yes, okay. That's a good idea. See you tomorrow." Pansy left, and Hermione stared suspiciously at the sofa. She let out her breath and slumped into one of the chairs, her dress, the scroll from Draco, and the entire evening temporarily pushed from her mind.

**ooo**

It took Hermione a long time to go to sleep because she couldn't stop thinking about Harry and Pansy. She had no frame of reference for what to do about the situation and finally fell asleep hoping that an answer would magically present itself.

When she woke the next morning before the sun rose, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She wasn't really great friends with Pansy; at least, she hadn't divulged anything too personal about herself. She listened to Pansy, comforted her, offered her advice, but she couldn't open up, couldn't share the same way Pansy did. She was too afraid to expose herself again; the wounds were still too raw.

Hermione refused to think about Draco and when he entered her thoughts, she jumped out of bed and threw a robe on over her pajamas.

Pansy was up already and had fixed Hermione's favourite breakfast and brewed her favourite tea. Hermione said good morning and sat down at the table. Pansy sat across from her and painfully refrained from speaking until Hermione had finished eating.

"How was your date?" Pansy asked as she took Hermione's plate.

_Perfect_. "It was fine," she replied with a sigh.

"Are you going to see him again?"

"No," Hermione replied. She thought about the scroll in her room, hidden away in a drawer secured by a series of locks, that she'd spent reading for a few hours the previous night. Her heart leapt, thinking of a few passages in particular and she allowed a small smile to play on her lips.

"Did…you want to talk about it?" Pansy asked tentatively.

"Not especially," said Hermione.

"He was nice, wasn't he? I mean, he didn't…_try_ anything."

Hermione thought of the near kiss and that, had she read Draco's return letters to her just one night sooner, she might not have been able to resist him. "He was a perfect gentleman."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Don't be," Hermione said, picking up the paper to read while Pansy cleared the dishes from breakfast. When she'd finished, Pansy returned to the kitchen with a fresh cup of tea for both of them. Hermione accepted the cup and took a sip. "It's delicious, Pansy."

"I'm glad."

Hermione sighed. "All right, let's talk, Pansy."

"I hope you're not mad, Hermione," Pansy rushed.

Hermione gave no indication either way. She was angry, just a little. She had told Draco she couldn't see him because of a girl who was in love with him. She had turned down a _kiss_, the first one she'd been offered in longer than she wished to think, only to return home and find said girl snogging her best friend who, last she'd checked, was still very much not over his dead girlfriend. Naturally, she couldn't express her full frustration to Pansy.

"I – I'm not mad, exactly. Not really. Just – tell me what happened. Where did this come from?"

"Well, Harry and I discovered a few weeks ago that we both really like James Bond films. We watch them whenever he comes over. Tonight we watched three because you were gone so long. When the third one ended, we started talking about it, and well, there was a pause, and he… he leaned over and kissed me. And I kissed him back, and I don't even know how long we'd been kissing when you got home."

"So, it wasn't a quick thing? You'd been kissing for awhile?"

Pansy smiled. "Yeah. And Hermione, I really like him."

"You… like him?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"I do. I have for a while now. I always hope he'll come over and not Ron, and I think he might like me too."

It was a lot to digest. Not the 'what' but the 'what does it all mean'? Especially in terms of Draco. And Harry… first and foremost she was concerned about him. He hadn't shown so much as an inkling of interest in a woman since Ginny and now he was full-on snogging one. Whom he'd only really known for a couple of months.

"You…like…Harry."

"Yes," Pansy said firmly.

Hermione nodded. "Tell me. During all your years of liking Malfoy, did you ever have feelings for someone else?"

Pansy considered the question. "There were a few times I tried to force myself to get over Draco, and a few times I tried to make him jealous." She chuckled. "How ridiculous. I was so blind! He'd never had any interest in me in that way."

"I'm… concerned that this might be another forced attempt."

"I've thought about that, I have. And I don't think it is at all. This feels completely different. I mean, I do very much want to get over Draco, but this – whatever it is – with Harry just happened. It started and it's grown, unlike any of the times I tried to make things happen. I had no intention of picking up with anyone until I was through this dark patch, until I was over Draco." She smiled, a dreamy haze invading her eyes. "And Merlin, he's a good kisser."

"Whoa, that's… too much information, Pansy," Hermione said with a twinge of regret. Then she shoved it down; she'd done the right thing with Draco, she knew it. But it didn't make _this_ any easier.

"Harry has such a wonderful, dry wit. And he's smart, and sweet… I could continue if you like."

"No, I get it, thank you." Hermione smiled. "I'm glad to see the potions have been working. So, what does this mean, exactly? As it relates to Malfoy."

"I don't know; I'm nervous, but I think I'm completely ready to put him behind me."

Hermione sighed. "Well, this is certainly unexpected, but it I think it's a good thing for both of you. I take it you two haven't had a chance to talk about this."

Pansy shook her head.

"But you think he likes you too?"

Pansy shrugged. "_He_ kissed _me_. And I've noticed he's been coming around a lot more lately."

"Why didn't you tell me about your feelings for Harry?" Hermione asked.

Pansy bit her lip. "I…I wasn't sure what you'd say. I thought you might not want me to like him because, well, I'm not exactly what most best friends would want for their friends. Not just because of Draco and the whole bridge incident."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. I'm not the smartest or the quickest…I don't have any real talents. You though—you're amazing. Smart, ambitious, beautiful… I never even tried to learn much of anything because I thought, well, that I wouldn't have to. That Draco would take care of me."

"Pansy," Hermione said with a smile. "You _are_ amazing. I've learned so much over these past few months…. It hasn't always been easy, but when we've talked, I've really enjoyed it. I think you're much smarter than you've ever been given credit, by yourself or others, and I think any man would be lucky to have you."

"But Harry…he's so special, to the whole world, even. He deserves someone _really_ exceptional."

"He deserves someone who is going to love him like crazy until the day he dies. I adore Harry, but he's been in a shell since the war ended. He's also been treated like some kind of fragile piece of crystal that everyone is afraid to touch or upset. I think you could really be something good for Harry.

"And if this helps you get over Malfoy, I'm all for it. I'm just concerned about what might happen if you two break up. Or when you see Malfoy with another woman."

Pansy took a deep breath. "I know, me too. But… I want to start this."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, then you have my full support."

"Really? To be with Harry? I mean if he wants to be with me, I don't even know, we just kissed… I hope I can see him again soon. Are you sure you won't go out with that guy again?"

"Pansy," Hermione said with a chuckle. "Harry is welcome here anytime, you know that. He's one of my best friends. And no. I'm not seeing him again."

**ooo**

_In response to your question in letter number seventeen:_

_My favourite thing about Quidditch—and remember that you asked—is the flying. As soon as I was old enough to ride on a broom, I spent all of my time doing just that. It gave me such a sense of freedom that I can only now, looking back, understand. _

_My father always wanted me to be _something_ special, be it in school, or Quidditch, or any number of things they enrolled me in before Hogwarts. He did not care what, so long as it was something. The more time I spent flying meant the more likely I would excel at Quidditch. Father left me alone._

_My mother would often sit outside while I flew, showing off for her, and even hired a personal instructor to teach me the finer points of the game. She would cheer for me and I tell you, it was impossible to persuade me in those moments that I wasn't the centre of the universe. I was _their_ universe, and that's all that mattered._

_As I got older, Quidditch began to lose its appeal and I'm sure you can imagine why. Suddenly it became about winning. It was no longer enough that I practiced constantly, twice as much as anyone else on the team. No—did I win, and more importantly, did I beat Potter?_

_Quidditch became yet another example of my failure. I couldn't top you in grades, couldn't top Potter in the sport I loved. But I could always fly and nothing could or can ever ruin that._

_Signing off for today_

_Draco _

**ooo**

A week had passed since Pansy and Harry had kissed and she hadn't seen him or heard from him once. Then one evening Hermione announced that she was seeing a movie with Ron and that Harry would be coming over soon.

Pansy panicked, but he'd arrived within minutes of the announcement, leaving her no time to get really worked up.

Ron showed up moments later, and he and Hermione were gone before Pansy could even think. When the door shut behind them, Pansy looked at Harry, and he was looking sheepishly at her.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she returned.

"I…thought we should talk."

"Okay," she said, nodding and wringing her hands. She was so nervous she felt like she might be sick.

Harry seemed nervous too, and they stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments. Then he seemed to relax, his face softened and he walked close to her and took her hands, still clenched together. Something flared in his eyes the moment before he pulled her to him and kissed her.

Pansy was shocked, but pleasantly so, and let him kiss her softly and slowly. She threaded her hands through his unruly hair and was just settling in for another mind-blowing snog, when the doorbell rang.

They pulled apart as though they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't, then laughed a little.

"I'll get it," said Harry. "That should be dinner." He left the kitchen and returned after a moment. "I'm no cook, but I can order a mean take-away."

Pansy smiled. "Let's eat at the table," she said. "I'll grab plates." Harry nodded and she turned around and opened a cabinet, removed two plates, and was about to turn around when she felt Harry move in close behind her. He put his hands at her waist and leaned his head over her shoulder. Tingles spread through her at the contact and she felt his breath on her neck.

"Did you miss me?" he asked gruffly.

She turned around in his arms, plates wedged between them, and smirked. "No." Though she knew her quickened pulse and slightly pinked cheeks betrayed her.

He grinned and kissed her forehead between her eyes. "You know, for a Slytherin, you're a terrible liar."

Pansy pushed him playfully. "Come on, Potter. Dinner's getting cold."

He moved away and took the plates from her. Pansy breathed a huge sigh of relief—after _that _little manoeuvre, she no longer had doubts as to his feelings.

When she joined him in the dining room, he'd already started eating.

"Hey! You can't start without me!" she said.

He grinned. "Apparently, I can."

"Harry Potter, what is a girl to think when the man who buys her dinner doesn't wait for her?"

He shrugged. "I dunno…that he's hungry?"

"Well, here, take a plate. Stop eating directly out of those little cartons, it looks ridiculous."

Harry looked up at her, chopsticks in hand, with an odd expression on his face. Then he laughed.

Pansy stared at him, confused.

"You're going a bit over the top with the nagging, aren't you?"

Pansy's eyes widened, not at all sure what to say.

Then Harry laughed. "I'm joking, Pansy. Come on, relax! I mean…" he paused and looked away from her. "I know we…sort of…_jumped _into something last time, what with the, uh…"

"Right," Pansy interjected, feeling the need to say something.

Harry looked at her then, his face slightly flushed. Pansy thought it strange that he was so shy, so uncomfortable about the idea of relationships, after his overt displays of affection, both that night and the week before.

She sat down and pawed through the bag. There was another carton of rice and a carton of what looked like General Tso's' Chicken.

"What if I don't eat meat?" she asked, sitting down and opening her rice.

Harry looked at her. "I know you eat meat, I've seen you."

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"In a week?" Harry asked.

"You never know, it could happen."

"If you say so," Harry said, continuing to eat unconcerned.

Pansy huffed and started to eat in silence. It was weird—neither of them spoke during the entire ten minutes it took them to finish eating, but she didn't feel uneasy about the silence. She rather enjoyed watching someone doing something as ordinary as eating. Harry was very adept at using chopsticks, while she'd had to get a fork from the kitchen after a few pitiful attempts.

When the food was gone, they remained sitting across from each other at the table.

"I…reckon it's time to talk," said Harry.

Pansy nodded, feeling nervous again. She knew he liked her, but that didn't really _mean _anything. It didn't mean he wanted to be with her, or invest himself in a relationship with her. He knew all about her problems with Draco, not to mention the reason she was living with Hermione in the first place. Surely he wouldn't want to get involved with someone so unstable.

"Let me start. First… I think you're amazing. You truly make me feel things I've never felt before, not even with Ginny. Not that I'm comparing the two of you, but there are a few things you should know. I loved Ginny. More than anything. I'd intended to marry her once the War was over."

He paused and took a deep breath. "When she died, part of me died. And I'm not just talking about the part that loved her. I'd lost so many people, so many ideas and hopes to the War, to Voldemort's cruelty. Her death…was almost too much for me to handle. I withdrew. I didn't want to hurt again, not like that. Only Hermione and Ron kept me from…well, doing something stupid."

"Like jumping off a bridge?" she said softly.

Their eyes met and she knew, she just _knew _he was the one who could really understand her.

"Yeah," he continued. "After the War…I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't wait around and be made out a hero or something worse. Not when _she _had died for the cause, and they wouldn't be talking about her. Sure, they would—and did—memorialize the dead, but she was a hero too. Like me, or Hermione or Ron.

"I've felt numb ever since. It's been nearly two years now, and barely anything had changed. I still feel stuck in those last moments of the war, with Ginny's death a fresh, gaping would. I—when I met you, or when you came here really, it was like waking up out of a deep sleep, or coming out of a long, dark tunnel. And…I…like you," he said haltingly and looked at her expectantly.

She half smiled. "I like you too."

He nodded. "It's good, this…thing, but it's scary too. And I want to go slow. Really slow. I'm not exactly over Ginny, and you're not over Malfoy."

Pansy wanted to tell him that she was, but without having seen him she couldn't be completely sure. It might have been wishful thinking. She knew she _wanted _to be, more than anything.

"Okay."

"I don't want to make any kind of commitment until after you've seen him. Until then, we're just… dating, I suppose."

"Only we're not seeing anyone else," Pansy said, hoping against hope he'd really want to _be _something with her.

"Right, but we're not an official couple. There are no strings. I think that's important. If you feel too strongly for Malfoy, then it won't be anything huge to end this. Or if I feel as though it's too much for me…" He trailed off and took a deep breath. "We both have an out, if we want one."

Pansy nodded, feeling slightly disappointed. She didn't think she would want that out. "That makes sense. Will we go on dates?"

"Do you think Hermione would allow it?" he asked. "Wizarding London isn't exactly a large place…what if somehow we ran into Malfoy and Hermione wasn't there? She wouldn't like it one bit."

"True," said Pansy, thinking.

"We could do Muggle stuff," Harry suggested.

"Draco likes Muggle London, especially seeing films."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Ever since…well, since his mum had to go to a Muggle hospital to get treatment, he's been much more open to them and their culture."

Harry frowned. "When was this?"

"During the War. Toward the end, actually. She got sick—really sick—really fast. None of the Healers could figure out what was wrong. Finally, a specialist, probably the tenth Draco had called in, referred him to a Muggle doctor. Draco was sceptical, but he was also desperate. Narcissa was in a coma and time was running out.

"She was transferred to the hospital where this doctor worked. A real jerk, really brisk and rude. Draco got along swimmingly with him. Draco had to lie to him—a lot, about our world—and the doctor had a thing with liars. So Draco finally told him the truth. The doctor didn't even blink, just started ordering tests. She was fine in three days.

"Draco still sees the doctor sometimes, and he gives generously to the hospital. Took him to a Quidditch game even." Pansy paused. "Ever since then, he's totally different about Muggles. I mean, he was already on your side, but that's when he really _changed_."

"Huh," said Harry. "Well, good, I guess. One less racist prat roaming the streets."

Pansy smiled. "About our dates. Maybe Hermione could write to him and tell him to stay home on certain nights."

Harry nodded. "Think she'd do that?"

"Sure, why not?" Pansy asked. "She wrote him about my painting supplies."

"I still want to see something you've done," Harry said.

Pansy waved him off. "I haven't even touched the box it all came in. I haven't felt very inspired lately. Or rather, I've had so much to do since coming here. At Draco's, I had absolutely _nothing_ to do."

"You should take time for your hobby if you miss it though. I wouldn't skive out on my weekly Quidditch games for anything."

She smiled. "That's really sweet to say… and I know you're right…"

"Trust me. Doing something that's just for you will help…everything."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely. I speak from personal experience."

Pansy sighed. "All right, maybe I'll see about finishing one of the pieces I started."

"Good. So, we'll go out then," Harry said. "But nothing serious until you've seen Malfoy."

Pansy nodded and bit her lip.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I'm nervous, but I want to see him too. Get it over with. I told Hermione I think I'm ready."

"Well, that's good, but just because you like me doesn't mean you don't still have feelings for him."

"I know that. I—I think I'm on my way to not liking him, I really do. I feel…different. I just want to know where I stand with him, in my head."

"I'm sure Hermione has a plan," Harry offered.

Pansy smirked. "This—you and me—threw a kink into her plans. She told me. But I'm sure by now she's got it worked out. So what movie did you bring?"

"Two James Bond. The newest one and _In Her Majesty's Secret Service_."

Pansy frowned. "We've seen that one."

Harry grinned widely. "I know."

It took her a second, but Pansy caught on and smiled. "Oh, good. I was hoping we'd still get to do the snogging part."

**ooo**

Hermione agreed to write Draco about staying away while Harry and Pansy were out, but she made sure to make a big deal out of it so Pansy wouldn't suspect she was actually writing to him regularly.

Harry became a steady fixture at Hermione's flat, and Pansy's confidence exploded. He frequently ate with them, and Hermione enjoyed having her friend around. Most pleasing was seeing him so nearly whole again. He was almost the same Harry from before Ginny's death. Older, and wiser, and more sober, but still Harry. Ron came over a lot too, and he also was relieved to see his friend so happy.

Hermione and Harry introduced Ron and Pansy to Muggle board games, and soon most every night was spent at the table playing. Ron wanted to learn as many new games as possible, while Pansy quickly found a favourite and always wanted to play it. They had to alternate so as to please everyone.

Hermione couldn't help but occasionally feel a stab of self-pity, as Harry and Pansy continued to grow closer and Ron had Suzette. The fact that she happened to be attracted to and interested in someone didn't help matters. Had he been anyone else, anyone at all, she would be with him now. But as things were, there was no way she could. She _wouldn't._

She added three chores for Pansy over the next two weeks: cleaning the kitchen, a few deep-cleaning tasks for the whole flat, and taking responsibility for her potions. But Pansy was too happy to really notice the extra work. She was now doing all of her chores quickly, efficiently, well, and without complaint, and she was cooking equally as often as Hermione.

Over Sunday breakfast during the first week in August, three and a half months after taking Pansy in, Hermione approached the subject of Pansy getting a job.

"A job?" Pansy said, balking.

"Yes," said Hermione, spreading the classifieds from the Daily Prophet spread out on the table. "I think it's time." Pansy had also gone four days in a row without talking about Draco. Soon, she'd be able to see him. There was an event at the Ministry the following weekend, and Harry would definitely be there as well as Draco. Pansy could go with Harry…

"A job," Pansy repeated. "I've never had a job."

"I know that," Hermione replied. "But you need to start working for a living. You know what I say, you're going to need to work. Not everyone can marry a rich wizard and sit around, eating sweets all day and gossiping with other rich wizards' wives."

"Harry's rich," Pansy said conversationally.

Hermione smiled. "True, but you're not married." Hermione pulled a few forms out of a bag. "I've got some questionnaires here, things designed to help you evaluate your strengths and weaknesses. Start filling them out while I cross out the jobs you are definitely _not _qualified for."

Pansy accepted the forms but regarded them as though she'd rather feed a dragon than fill them out.

"Here's a quill," said Hermione cheerily. "If you have any questions, or need any help, as me. Okay?"

Pansy nodded reluctantly and started.

A few minutes later, Hermione said, "How many N.E.W.T.s did you get and in what subjects?"

"Uhm, seven, in Charms, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, Divination, Herbology, Astronomy and History of Magic."

"Good job!" said Hermione, beaming.

"What about you?" Pansy asked.

Hermione looked down at the paper and very deliberately said, "Thirteen."

"Naturally," said Pansy, rolling her eyes but smiling too.

They continued working in silence for another half hour. Once Pansy finished with her forms, she handed them to Hermione, a scowl on her face.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"I appear to have little-to-no skills."

Hermione frowned. "That's not true, let me have a look." She leafed through the forms and made a few adjustments. "Pansy, you're too hard on yourself. Of course you have skills. Remember the party a few weeks ago?" Pansy nodded, skeptical. "That shows organizational, time-management, and multi-tasking skills.

Pansy blinked. "Really?"

"Really. And you're good with people—everyone we talked to simply adored you. You're also creative and adventurous."

"I _am_?"

"Yes! Take the roast you made the other day. You completely made up the recipe, hence creative and adventurous. And that's another thing—you've got a gift in the kitchen." She paused, scanning the ads. "I wonder if we could get you an apprenticeship at this new sweet shoppe."

"A sweet shoppe?" Pansy asked, intrigued.

"Yeah. There's a new one opening in Diagon Alley and they've got two positions open. You'd train under a master confectioner and learn enough to one day have your own shoppe. Does that interest you?"

"Yes, it does," said Pansy, eagerly.

"Okay. We'll start there. I think you should also apply for other food-related jobs and secretarial. To start."

"Secretary?" Pansy repeated, disdain evident in her voice. "As in, get coffee for people and answer post?"

Hermione smiled. "You have to start somewhere, Pansy. I can easily see you as a Project Manager within a year."

Pansy's eyes bugged. "A _year_?!"

"These things don't happen overnight, you know. I said _within_ a year. It could be two months, depending on how well you impress your boss."

"A year," said Pansy, reality sinking in. Then, "I like the sound of Project Manager."

"Excellent. I've found fifteen potential positions."

"Is that a lot?" Pansy asked.

"It's…a good start. Very good. We've got to start with your resume. And I would definitely use Malfoy as a reference."

Pansy frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"So…I can't take his money, I can't see him, but I can use his name to help me get a job? Doesn't sound like you."

"This situation of you not seeing him is temporary. You'll always be in each other's lives, you'll always be friends. I have no doubt he will give a glowing report of you to anyone who asks."

Pansy groaned. "He's seen me at my least-glowing."

"And at your most," said Hermione. "I have every confidence that he wouldn't say anything negative, nothing that would prevent you from being granted an interview."

Pansy smiled. "I told you he was wonderful. Sounds like you're finally starting to believe me."

Hermione had to force herself not to blush. "Well, it must be because for the last three months, you've said nothing but good—sometimes _impossibly_ good—things about him. I still know very little for myself."

Neither spoke for a few minutes.

"When do I start?" Pansy finally asked.

"Tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow_?"

"Yes. I want to see this candy master first thing in the morning. But right now we have to work on your resume."

**ooo**

The next day, Hermione and Pansy went to Diagon Alley to pass out resumes, and to stop in and see the confectioner. Pansy dressed smartly, in a brown, knee-length skirt of Hermione's and matching blazer, a light blue silk blouse, and gold pumps.

Hermione sent Pansy in by herself. She went to the counter after a quick mental pep talk. An old man stood wiping the surface with a rag.

"Excuse me," she said politely. "I'm looking for Mr. Lumiere Bronchant."

The man straightened and grinned broadly. "You have found him," he said in a thick French accent.

Pansy extended her hand. "My name is Pansy Parkinson and I'm here to apply for a position."

Mr. Bronchant continued smiling for a moment, then said, "You can do better than that."

Pansy blinked, momentarily taken aback. She recovered quickly and said, "My name is Pansy and I want to learn to make sweets so delicious the mere mention of them will make anyone's mouth water."

"Better," he said with a nod. Then he turned toward a door Pansy suspected led to a back room. "Nora, come out here." A moment later, a large woman appeared. "We've got a new applicant."

The woman looked Pansy up and down shrewdly.

"You look strong enough. Did you bring a sample?"

"A—a sample?" said Pansy, panicking.

"Well, that's okay. We' don't require it." Nora reached down and started pulling things out of the cabinet: flour, sugar, cocoa, baking powder and soda, butter, eggs and milk. "You get to pick one more ingredient."

Pansy thought quickly. "Cinnamon."

Nora quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, bending to retrieve the required spice.

"You've got ten minutes. Then we bake, then we taste."

**ooo**

Hermione was reading when Pansy left the shoppe, nearly two hours later. She looked up when the door opened and saw a beaming Pansy walk out.

Hermione smiled. "How did it go?"

"Excellent! Just perfect. Oh, Hermione, they want me to come back for an interview!"

Hermione frowned. "Then…what was that?"

"The weed out phase. I was given a bunch of ingredients and told to make whatever I wanted."

"And?"

"I made cinnamon cookies."

"Sounds…different."

"They were, but the confectioner—it's really the wife, Nora—said I wasn't afraid to take risks."

"So when do you come back?"

"Not until next week," said Pansy, her smile falling a bit. "They've apparently had a lot of applicants. And they gave me a recipe and told me to modify three things to make three different cakes."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds like fun."

"It will be, for sure."

"Are you hungry? It's well past lunch."

"Oh, Merlin, no! I've been eating sweets for two hours!"

"Well, how about I get something to eat and you continue to pass out resumes."

"Oh, I don't think that's necessary. I've got a really good feeling about this."

"Pansy," said Hermione firmly. "We've got to plan for the worst. That's how it works. Assume you're not going to get the job you really, really want. Hope for the best, plan for the worst."

"Really?" said Pansy, her voice approaching a whine.

"Yes," Hermione replied with a chuckle. "I'll be at the café down the street, sitting outside. Come find me when you're done."

"Okay," Pansy said, exasperated.

An hour later, Pansy joined Hermione at the café.

"That went well," she said.

"Good!" Hermione replied, setting her book down.

"A few places said they'd write for sure about an interview."

"That's great, Pansy!"

"It is," she said, smiling.

"And how do you feel?" Hermione asked.

"Really good."

"Good. Because tomorrow we're doing Ministry jobs."

Pansy groaned, then her face lit up. "I'll see Harry!"

"I know. He's planning lunch for you two."

"Oh, good. He's so hot," Pansy said with a sigh.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "This is simply too surreal."

**ooo**

**A/N:** The James Bond movie mentioned by name in this story has a special significance to me. It was filmed at a location in Switzerland, in a revolving restaurant on top of the Schilthorn, and when I went to Switzerland last year, I ate in that restaurant. I have also seen the movie, and I don't really recommend it as one of the best Bond movies, but it's still neat to see it and know that I have been there.


	5. Rather Less Like a Dance

**Disclaimer**: Only JKR owns Harry Potter, so this is obviously just for fun.

**Note**: Special thanks to my wonderful beta, kazfeist! You're awesome, m'dear! Title borrowed from the amazing book, "Pride and Prejudice," by Jane Austen.

**ooo**

**Chapter Five – Rather Less Like a Ball**

Hermione and Pansy spent the rest of the week applying for jobs and Pansy even had an interview that Friday. Many of the businesses and restaurants seemed interested, but Pansy most wanted to work at the candy shoppe. She spent much of her free time—whenever Harry wasn't available—working on her cake modifications.

"I have some news," said Hermione at dinner the following Monday.

"What's that?" Pansy asked. It was just the two of them, at Hermione's request.

"This Saturday there's a ball at the Ministry."

"I think Harry mentioned something about that," said Pansy. Then it seemed to click. "Are we _going_?" she squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Yes. Harry wanted to ask you to be his date for the event."

"OH!" Pansy shrieked. "I—I can't _believe _it! We have to go shopping!"

Hermione smiled. "There's more."

"More?"

"Malfoy will be there."

Pansy's excitement was curbed somewhat. Her features settled into resolution. "Wow, you think I'm ready?"

"Yes, I do. It's a nice, elegant, but low-key atmosphere. No pressure. We won't be sitting at his table for dinner, but for the dancing portion of the evening, you'll be able to make contact."

"Oh, my. Wow. I—I'm actually nervous."

"I wanted to give you plenty of time to prepare."

Pansy was thoughtful. "You know, I have plenty of gowns. I don't need another one, and besides I don't have money for one. But we must get you a new one. I've seen yourcloset and I refuse to let you out of the house in that same blue frock you wear to all formal occasions."

"Thanks," Hermione said, feigning injury.

"You simply must look smashing," Pansy said, matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Hermione asked warily.

"Because," Pansy replied with a smirk. "You need a bloke. And a ball is a perfectly lovely place to find one."

**ooo**

They returned to Diagon Alley the next day to shop for Hermione and for Pansy's appointment. Hermione had offered to go shopping while Pansy interviewed, but Pansy refused to let her step into a single shop without her. Hermione sat outside in the sun to wait, grateful she had thought to bring a book because Pansy was in the shop for nearly two hours.

Pansy was beaming once again when she emerged. "I have to wait still," she blurted immediately. "It's so frustrating! But they really liked my creations."

Hermione smiled and closed her book. "They want you back though?"

"Yes. Here, I brought you a raspberry truffle."

"That's great!" Hermione said, accepting the confection from Pansy.

"I know! I spent most of the time watching Nora prepare those truffles. I can't wait until that's me and I get to create my own sweets." Then in a flash, Pansy's demeanour changed from excited to all business. "Now. Our next task is to find you the perfect gown."

Two hours later, Hermione had a red dress with a full, slowing skirt, thin straps, and a fitted bodice for the weekend's ball. The bodice had crystals and beading in an intricate design, and Pansy raved that the dress flattered her in every way possible.

"You arms, especially, and your ankles—those really are the perfect shoes—and your neck, and your face, your colouring, your chest—it's absolutely perfect!"

When Saturday rolled around, Pansy vacillated between feeling confident and rushing around the flat tidying up, unable to relax. Hermione tried to be very calm all day so that she would not further stress Pansy during one of her nervous streaks, but inside she was her own ball of nerves. She was nervous about seeing Draco, too. What if he brought someone? What if he _didn't_? Would he want to talk to her? If he did, would he risk it? And then … there were too many things he might say. Not to mention that she had to be very careful not to show an ounce of emotion toward him, in case Pansy should happen to see them together. Or should they ever be standing near each other.

She let Pansy do her hair again but refused the make-up. As she put on the red dress, she decided she would have a good time no matter what happened, whether she would have the opportunity to speak to Draco or not.

Pansy wore a stunningly elegant black gown. There was no way around it: Pansy was gorgeous. She was thin with pale, perfect skin that contrasted with her sleek, jet-black hair, which fell to the level of her shoulder blades. Hermione felt very ordinary when standing next to her. She knew she was pretty enough, but comparatively…

In addition to her anxiety at seeing Draco, Hermione was also concerned about Draco's reaction to Pansy. He hadn't seen her in months and the first time he did, she would be stunning. Would he, once Pansy had moved on, or appeared to be uninterested in him, find that he really _did _like her? When he could have her, he didn't want her, but when she was taken, would he find himself wanting her back?

Harry picked them up and Hermione felt slightly miserable. Harry had openly gawked at his date, telling her repeatedly she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and kissing her heavily in the sitting room, while Hermione watched.

"And you look nice too, Hermione."

She wanted to hit him.

When they arrived at the ball, they were escorted to their table. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to have been seated beside Blaise Zabini. Filling out their table of eight were Ron and Suzette, and Luna and Neville.

The room was beautiful. Glitter-covered artificial birds had been Charmed to fly gracefully above the guests. With the subdued lighting, they gave the illusion that the entire room was twinkling. The music was classic yet somewhat sultry. Overall, the atmosphere was very romantic.

Hermione had to force herself not to look for Draco.

However, a few minutes after dinner was served, Pansy asked her to do just that. Hermione found him across the room, at a table with people she didn't know, and talking closely with a beautiful witch to his right. Her stomach sank into her toes.

"See him?" Pansy whispered.

"Yes. He's across the room, by the stage."

"Figures he would have to be near all the important people." Pansy snuck a peek toward Draco's table when Harry wasn't looking. Hermione braced herself for … whatever would happen, especially if Pansy saw the woman beside him.

But nothing happened. Pansy simply turned around and gave Harry's hand a squeeze, and dinner moved forward.

Before Hermione knew it, the meal had ended and the tables were rearranged to open the floor for dancing. Someone stood up and made announcements and then said that Harry would be opening the dancing portion of the evening.

Hermione looked at Pansy, who for a moment appeared panicked but quickly recovered. Harry stood and extended his hand to her, which she took, and led her onto the floor. The music started, and Harry and Pansy moved as though they'd been made to dance with each other.

"Uh-oh," whispered Ron amusedly, leaning over to Hermione.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Malfoy." Ron pointed toward where Draco had been sitting. Now he was standing with his hands in his pockets, an odd, unreadable expression on his face as he watched Harry and Pansy.

More then when she'd seen him beside the beautiful woman at dinner, seeing him watch Pansy made Hermione's stomach turn. Draco didn't take his eyes off the pair as other couples slowly joined them and his expression did not change. Hermione thought it might have contained a twinge of regret.

"Want to dance?"

The question brought Hermione out of her self-imposed torture, and she smiled up at the man asking.

"I'd love to, Blaise."

After three songs, dancing with Blaise, then Ron, then Neville, Hermione needed a break. She excused herself from the floor and made her way to the refreshment table. Harry and Pansy hadn't left each other's side yet, and she hadn't seen Draco dance. In fact, she hadn't even _seen_ him. Had he left? With that blonde woman, perhaps? The very thought made her feel slightly ill.

Shakily, she took a few sips of water, and then scolded herself. Draco was … new, he was different. Wonderful, true, but she shouldn't be as affected by him as she was. After all, they had only seen each other once.

Someone else joined her and got a cup of punch, then turned and leaned against the table. There was no one else around—everyone else was dancing.

"Hey," said the person.

Hermione looked to her left and saw Draco, not looking at her, and sipping slowly from his cup. Unbidden, a smile stole across her face. She remained facing the wall. "Hey."

"Are you having a good time?" he asked.

"I suppose," she replied with a sigh.

"There are no words—none that I know can even come close—but I will try, nonetheless. You are breathtaking, Hermione."

Her smile widened and she looked at the table and the trays of multicoloured sweets and various spreads and crackers displayed on them. Then, despite him, despite what he'd said, her smile faded.

"Draco … I—I need to know something."

"Anything."

"I hope I'm not doing all of this in vain. I don't want to rehabilitate Pansy, get her over you, only to have you decide you want her in the end." Hermione's stomach temporarily relocated into her throat as the waited in painful anticipation for his reply.

Draco didn't speak right away. When he finally did, he said, "Are you completely mad? What on earth would make you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at her when she danced with Harry," Hermione replied, feeling very, very small.

Draco looked at her then, and she chanced a glance in return. He had an amused smile on his face. She looked away and he said. "I'm guessing, then, you missed the looks I gave _you_, first when I saw you, then again when I saw you dancing with Zabini."

She smiled again but refused to allow her hopes up or to let her stomach return to its natural place. He had not answered the question.. "So … that means…"

"I have never looked at her that way I assure you. I have never felt for her—or anyone, really—what I feel right now. _For you_. Before, with Pansy … she seemed so happy. I want her to be happy, and was pleased to see her so obviously enjoying herself, but at the same time I had to swallow my annoyance that my own happiness must be put on hold." He turned around to refill his cup and Hermione turned too, to face the crowd. Again, they faced opposite directions. He took a sip and said. "I've missed you."

Hermione blinked, her heart jumping. "How can you say that? It was one dinner."

"Your letters," he replied, then frowned. "They have changed."

She bowed her head again. "I know. After dinner … I wasn't sure what to say."

"Well, you _say _plenty," Draco replied, a hint of bitterness evident in his voice. "About Pansy, anyway. Nothing at all about you, which is what I really want, what I read every bloody word of those letters for. The pieces of _you_."

She looked at him. "I'm so torn," she started, but something moved in her periphery. Pansy was walking toward her, beaming. "Bye," she said quickly, and walked away from the table. She didn't get but three steps before Pansy had met her.

"Oh, Hermione! I'm having such a good time, I'm so glad we came!"

"I'm pleased to hear that," Hermione said with a smile she didn't completely feel at the moment. Then Draco was next to her, but not beside her, in any significant way.

This was the moment both Pansy and Hermione had been waiting for since their very first day together. Hermione's hands started to get sticky and her heart was still pounding, her stomach had inched toward her voicebox.

"Draco," said Pansy with a smile.

"Pansy," he returned. "How are you? You look lovely."

She hesitated, and then hugged him. "I'm so good," she said after they'd separated. "And thank you. Doesn't Hermione look nice too?"

Hermione froze as both Pansy and Draco turned to her. She saw Draco's eyes, full of…something, smile at her more than his lips. "Yes," he said simply.

"I did her hair," Pansy said proudly.

"I see," he said. "You did an excellent job, Pans. Always do."

"Thank you," she beamed. "But she refused the make-up. I rather thought she should have at least done her eyes."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush and she wanted to hit Pansy very hard on the nose at that moment. "Pansy," she said through a clenched smile.

"Oh, you look fine, Hermione," said Pansy, somewhat dismissively. "Draco, I haven't seen you dancing this evening."

"You know me," he said.

"Yes, I do," Pansy said with a knowing smile. "Come. Dance with me. I know you will."

Draco glanced at Hermione and she thought she saw him trying to reassure her. Then he extended his arm to Pansy. "How can I resist?"

Hermione watched them move toward the floor. Then she felt a presence beside her.

"May I have another dance?" asked Blaise.

**ooo**

"You look good, Pansy. Really happy."

"I am, Draco. Hermione is… just wonderful. She's helped me so much, and I really feel like I can be okay on my own. Imagine that!"

He smiled. "I'm glad to hear things are good between you. Are you okay though? I mean, spending all that time around Gryffindors has got to be weird, and potentially bad for you."

"Draco!" Pansy cried, smacking his arm playfully. "They're really great. You should try it."

"Try what?"

"To make friends with them. I mean, Hermione is wonderful, and Harry is…is fun, and Ron is goofy. We play games a lot, you should come."

"You're offering to share your pack? Shouldn't I get my own set of Gryffindor friends?" he asked with a smile.

"I can share," Pansy said daintily. Then she frowned. "Only, you'd make five. That wouldn't work. You'd have to either bring a friend, or Ron can bring his girlfriend. She's really pretty, have you seen her?"

"I think so, long blond hair?"

"Yes. She's his sister-in-law's cousin."

"Ah. Fleur."

"Right. Ron and Suzette are really sweet together. I suppose though, you'd get stuck with Hermione a lot."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Whenever we played something with teams. I'd be with Harry, Ron with Suzette, and you'd be left with Hermione."

"I'm sure we can put aside our differences in order to wipe the floor with the rest of you."

Pansy smirked. "Is that so?"

"You do remember I've got something of a competitive streak, don't you?"

"How on earth could I forget? And Hermione's really competitive too… maybe we shouldn't put you two together."

"Why? Scared?"

"Hardly!" Pansy said with a forced chuckle. "Though really, I have no idea when she's going to let me see you again."

Draco started to speak, then paused. "How do you like following her rules?"

Pansy shrugged. "You know me. At first I hated it. But now… I really feel… I know Hermione really cares about me. She wants me to get better, and be self-sufficient. I think it's her favourite phrase, I hear it so often. She makes me want to learn all the stuff I've learned, and to do it well."

Draco nodded. "I'm glad. I was very worried there for a while; half-expecting one of you to turn up on my doorstep and say you'd killed the other. But when nothing happened, I gradually relaxed."

Pansy smiled. "Thinks are wonderful with me. How about with you?"

**ooo**

Hermione danced with Blaise, then Ron again, then Blaise again. She was about to find Harry and demand he dance with her, but she saw Draco catch her eye and then make his way to the drink table. So she waited a moment and joined him.

"How did it go?" she asked as soon as he was in earshot.

"Fine," he said handing her a glass of punch. "I put a little something special in there. Just for you."

"Oh?" she said, giggling. "What's that?"

"A little potion I just brewed. It will keep you from dancing with Blaise for the rest of the night."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He chuckled. "No. But I wish I was."

"Are you jealous?" she asked, grabbing a few truffles and popping one in her mouth.

"Me? Never," he said, but his eyes betrayed him. They stood in silence for a minute, both facing away from the dancing. Then Draco turned around to lean against the table once more. "Seriously. Will you write me again? Really write?"

"Yes," she said nodding.

"What did you mean when you said you're torn?"

She sighed and turned around to lean against the table as well. "I – I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't want to think about it, either. Is that okay?"

"Of course," he said kindly. Then he stood up straight and set his cup down. "I've just had the most brilliant idea in the history of ideas."

"Oh?" she said, instantly curious.

"Yes. A 'thank-you' dance. Would you be interested? After all, we haven't talked since the night I left Pansy at your flat. At this point, I would be considered terribly rude for saying, or _doing_,nothing to thank you for everything you've done for her."

Hermione smiled and her heart leapt. She hadn't dared hope she would get to dance with him. "I would hate for someone to think you rude, or worse. I will happily do whatever I must do to prevent such a thing."

"Excellent," he said with a genuine smile, extending his arm.

She hooked her arm in his and followed him.

"You shouldn't look so happy," Draco said, now with a stoic, polite expression on his face. "Remember, you're just doing this to alleviate my conscience."

"Right," she said, stripping the smile and replacing it with an expression bordering on apathy. She adjusted her stance to portray awkwardness.

When they reached the floor, they stopped and he turned around, taking her hand in his and resting the other lightly on her waist. Hermione's heart started pounding and she had to fight to keep the blush from creeping onto her cheeks. The feel of his hand on hers sent shivers through her, and he was so… close. His face, painted with indifference, was mere inches from her own and she could smell him. She sniffed. He smelled like coconut.

The music started and he swept her along, holding her as close as he could without drawing attention or, should anyone look closely, raising suspicion. But he moved the hand that held hers constantly, letting his fingers trail along hers.

They made small talk at first because neither of them could think clearly, but eventually they gave up even that and just moved together. Hermione tried not to get lost staring into his eyes and had to force herself to look elsewhere. He never took his eyes off her, and eventually she lost the battle against the blush.

With a smirk, he finally spoke, near the end of the song. "Don't worry; it just looks like you've been dancing all evening."

Their eyes met and she let herself smile. When the song ended, they parted immediately, and Draco gave a curt bow, then turned on his heel and walked away. Hermione took a deep breath before turning to walk in the opposite direction.

She went straight for the bar, needing something considerably stronger than punch, and ordered a shot of Firewhiskey. When she turned to find Harry or Ron, she saw Pansy marching straight toward her. She smiled, but when Pansy came close enough, Hermione saw tear-streaks on her cheeks.

"Pansy, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Pansy sniffed, and then said in a whisper, "I thought you were my friend."

"What? I am, of course! What are you talking about?"

"You – you – and Draco…" she trailed off, fresh tears spilling over.

Dread entered Hermione's heart and entire body. "What do you mean?"

"I saw you!" Pansy accused in a harsh whispered tone.

"What do you mean?"

"The two of you dancing."

Hermione exhaled in relief. "Oh, that was nothing. He wanted to thank me for taking care of you, and he had a few questions about how you're doing. That's all."

Pansy shook her head. "No, that's not all, not even close. I _saw_you."

"What do you think you saw, Pansy? We just danced."

"That was not just dancing. I know him, remember? And I thought I knew you." With that, Pansy turned and fled from the room. Hermione stared after her, dumbstruck.

Harry approached her after a moment with two cups of punch. "You seen Pansy?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, eyes wide and full of her own tears. "Hermione, what?"

"She – she's mad at me. For dancing with Malfoy. I think; I'm not completely sure." Hermione started walking to where there were chairs set up around the edge of the room and Harry followed. She wondered if it were possible that Pansy could have somehow seen or sensed her attraction to Draco, despite her best efforts to hide it and act nonchalant.

"You danced with Malfoy?"

"Yes, just once. He said he wanted to thank me and he had a few questions."

Harry sat down roughly beside her. "She's upset?"

Hermione only nodded, then she felt Harry slump in his seat. She looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"It's not _your _fault. It's … I mean … tonight was going so well." He stared at the cups in his hand. "I thought things were going to be all right."

"I know! I was so encouraged, she seemed fine."

Harry sighed and took a drink from his punch. "It needs something." Hermione reached over and poured her Firewhiskey into his cup. "Thanks." He drank it in one go. "Who's going after her?"

"Not me," Hermione said. "She doesn't want to see me, I'm sure."

Harry heaved a sigh. "Guess that means me, then. What am I supposed to say to her, Hermione? 'Sorry you got jealous, over absolutely nothing?' It was a dance, that's all, right?"

Hermione nodded, feeling guilt twist at her insides.

"Oh well. There's nothing for it. Are you ready to go? Should I tell Ron to make sure you get home?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Good, because I think he left already, actually …"

"Go on, go find her," Hermione said listlessly. Harry handed her the two cups and gave her an understanding, dreading smile. "And be nice, Harry. We knew something like this might happen."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. But … gah, I don't know. See you around."

She waved at his back as he walked away and out of the room. Suddenly the room was loud and hot and oppressive. Hermione drank the punch intended for Pansy and went to retrieve her purse and jacket.

Draco met her halfway there, concern in his eyes. "I saw Pansy leave and she looked upset. What happened?"

Hermione looked at him sadly. "She saw us, and she didn't take it well. At all. I have to go."

He grabbed her arm as she started to walk away. "Wait, what do you mean she saw us?"

"Dancing." Hermione shut her eyes and squeezed her forehead. "I – I thought she was okay, I thought she'd accept my explanation, but she just sounded so betrayed, and then she just left…"

"Hey, it's okay. She'll get over it, all right? She gets like that. Explain it to her again, when she's calmed down."

"I fully intend to," she said. "But … I'm sorry. This is so hard. I – I told you not to wait for me. I meant it." She walked away from him and he didn't follow, though she could feel him watching her until she'd gathered her things and left the room.

**ooo**

_Dear Draco,_

_I haven't even been home ten minutes and I'm compelled to write. I'm sorry I just left you like that; I hope you'll forgive me._

_I'm torn. Let me explain why._

_I want to get to know you better. But if I do, I'm afraid I'll only like you more, and inevitably something may happen. So in that respect, I_don't _want to know _anything _about you._

_I haven't seen Pansy, but this is my worst fear. It's one thing for her to see you, and it'll be another thing to see you with someone. But it's altogether something else if that _someone _she counts as a friend. _

_Should everything go well, and Pansy completely recovers and gets over you, there would still remain the issue of me being her friend. And wanting to be … more with you would appear as the ultimate betrayal._

_Yet I hope, somehow, it might happen. That there is still hope. So what are my motivations? I can no longer say only Pansy; you're in here somewhere. And I should be focused on Pansy… though not to the point of neglecting myself and my own happiness. Were you anyone other than Draco Malfoy, we wouldn't even be having this problem._

_  
So of course, we must continue on this way. I hope at some point for Pansy to see you with someone, though I know it will tear me apart. I have told her repeatedly that you will one day have a serious relationship, but until she sees it, I don't think it will sink in. Not that I'm asking you to invent a relationship. That's just where I think the true test will be._

_Now you can see why I am so torn!_

_Because so much of me wants to be selfish, and not bother with what Pansy thinks or cares and just… go back a month to the night on the bridge and _not _stop you._

_But I have to remember that if not for Pansy, I wouldn't even know you. She comes first. It's presumptuous to say move on, because there's nothing to move on _from_. But Draco, move on. I can't promise you _anything

_I won't write again on this matter. I had to tell you what's in my heart, and I simply had to tell you to move on. I can't let you think something will happen when I barely have that hope for myself._

_I wish…so many things!_

_Hermione_

The next morning, Hermione found a small piece of parchment on her writing desk. Her heart clenched as she realized whom it must be from. Slowly she opened it to find a message written in letters cut out from the newspaper.

NO. It's you.

'No' had been underlined three times. She smiled at his note and at his efforts to make the message anonymous to anyone but her and tucked it away in her especially-locked drawer. He was sweet and persistent, but Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that things were not to turn up roses for Draco and her.

**ooo**

**A/N:**Thanks for reading this one! Hopefully I'll get the next one up soon:)


	6. Action Flicks

**Disclaimer:**Only JKR owns Harry Potter, so this is obviously just for fun.

**Note:**Special thanks to my wonderful beta, kazfeist! You're awesome, m'dear!

**ooo**

**Chapter Six – Action Flicks**

Hermione didn't see Pansy until the following evening, though she saw evidence that Pansy had returned to the flat. Food was moved around in the fridge and her lunch dishes had been done when she returned from the shops.

At dinner, Pansy emerged from her room and joined Hermione in the kitchen. She moved around the kitchen as though trying to look busy but failing. Finally she stopped and looked at Hermione. "Hey."

Hermione looked up from the pot she was standing over and smiled. "Hey."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course. Let me just set this to finish on its own." She flicked her wand and the pot would continue to simmer gently for another seven minutes.

They went into the living room.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you," said Pansy immediately after they had taken seats on opposite ends of the sofa.

"It's okay," said Hermione.

"No, it's not. I mean, you hadn't really _done _anything. It was unfair and irrational."

"Not entirely, and I completely understand why you got upset. I _was_ dancing with … him."

"Harry helped me work out that what most bothered me was not seeing _him_ dancing with you, but seeing _you_ dancing with him. Because I'd seen him all evening, talking to other women, but when it was _you_, I freaked out."

Hermione sighed. "Pansy…"

"I know, it was wrong, but you're my friend. So to see you, dancing with him, considering you're not friends with him, that you never talk to him … it was just too much for me last night. I let my mind make up things between you, and I saw something that wasn't really there. I got carried away with my imagination. But I'm better now, and I can see that it was truly nothing."

"Pansy, I would never, _ever_, go behind your back and … _see_ him. Never."

"I know that, I do," she said, nodding her head.

"You are my friend; I wouldn't betray your trust like that."

Pansy smiled. "I have never had a friend like you before. A friend who really _wouldn't_ go behind my back and try to see … well, he's not exactly an ex-boyfriend. But the one I thought I was in love with, anyway, so that's something."

"Yes, it is. You do _not_ have to worry about that happening, okay?"

She nodded.

Hermione felt her stomach and her insides twisting into knots of guilt. What she'd told Pansy was true, she would not sneak around with Draco and carry on a relationship. However, she _had_ seen him, though only once, and she had liked him very much. So much that part of her_wanted_ to carry on a relationship, whether secret or not, with him.

Talking to Pansy was exactly what she had needed in order to remind herself about what she was doing and why. To reinforce her conviction that she should not see Draco. She shouldn't, she knew that. It was just hard to remember all the time, especially when he was so irresistibly charming.

Pansy nodded and they hugged. "I'm glad we're okay."

"Of course we're okay!" Hermione said.

"Good. I go back to the candy shoppe tomorrow for my final interview."

"Really? What do you have to do?"

"They haven't said. I'm nervous."

"Don't be," said Hermione, smiling. "If you don't get it, you still have … how many other offers?"

"Eight," said Pansy glumly.

"Eight! Exactly! That's wonderful; you'll still get to choose where you'll work."

Pansy shrugged. "But I really _want_ this."

"I know you do. Are you going to be okay if it doesn't happen?"

"Yes, I'll be okay," she replied in a huffy, pouty tone. "Not happy."

"You said the job with Gringotts looked good, and it certainly pays well."

"I know. I know." Pansy sighed. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'm so nervous!"

"When will you find out about the position?"

"This week. Maybe Thursday."

"Are you hungry, Pansy?"

"Starving! I haven't eaten since last night! Harry came after me, but I wasn't ready to talk to him. We met this afternoon downstairs in the lobby and talked."

"Well, dinner should be ready soon."

"I'll help."

Hermione smiled and they both went to the kitchen.

**ooo**

Pansy went to the candy shoppe on Monday and was with the owners for another two hours. They asked her a long list of questions, and had her taste numerous products and identify the differences between them. When she left and found Hermione at Flourish and Blotts, she was mentally exhausted but physically wired.

Hermione had a few errands to run, so she and Pansy walked up and down Diagon Alley three times, in part to get the sugar out of Pansy's system. By the time they got back to the flat, Pansy was ready for a nap. Hermione sat down to write Draco, as she hadn't written him the previous week. She would do as he had asked and write him, truly, in addition to updates on Pansy. She would try her best not to include personal feelings for him, or in any way let them show.

_Dear Draco,_

_The dance was lovely, wasn't it? I thought the Ministry put on an excellent benefit for the hospital, and I hear you are to be thanked for a most generous contribution. I am sorry I was not there to see you forced to stand before all those present and smile and act as though you were happy at the attention._

_I do have some good news: Pansy is no longer upset with me, which is quite an accomplishment, I must say. I thought we would be set back by months, but it seems as though she is truly moving on. I know Harry is a large part of it._

_My biggest concern, now that she has seen you, is her seeing you _with_ someone. Again, I am not asking you to do something you aren't comfortable doing. I'm simply voicing my concern._

_Today Diagon Alley was lovely. We saw lots of families with their children, getting ready for Hogwarts to start. You told me you wanted a large family—how large? Do you intend to fill the Manor? I'm joking, of course. That would take three lifetimes, from what I've heard._

_I must admit, I've been thinking about your home lately. How big is it, exactly? How many rooms? Do you keep house elves? (see letters 5, 6 and 12-14) Is it full of beautiful works of art? Are the rooms simply exquisite? Do you like being there, or do you wish sometimes for something smaller? Or just different?_

She wrote him the longest letter yet, full of herself. She spent nearly a foot and a half on Pansy alone, giving him all the details of their conversation. Satisfied she mailed it, to the chagrin of her poor owl, required to carry such a hefty missive.

On Thursday night, Pansy received an Owl from Nora.

_Parkinson. You're in. Stop by tomorrow for details_.

Pansy screamed and ran into the living room where Hermione was watching a movie with Ron and Harry.

"I got it!" she shouted when they looked at her, alarmed.

Harry jumped off the sofa immediately and went to her and hugged her tight.

Hermione and Ron chorused their congratulations and she showed the short letter to Hermione. Then Harry kissed her, and they didn't stop at what would have been an acceptable "congrats" kiss. When Harry and Pansy seemed to forget themselves, where they were, and that there were other people in the room, Ron cleared his throat. Loudly._Twice_.

Then, finally, they separated themselves and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Merlin," said Ron, grinning at Harry. "Get a room."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, obviously embarrassed. It was still amazing to Hermione how happy Harry seemed and how at ease he was with Pansy. She never would have guessed that the two of them would find something in each other, but she was happy for them all the same.

"Oh, like _you_ can talk, Ron," Pansy retorted, not fazed at all. She sat down in a chair and motioned for Harry to sit on the floor in front of her.

"Pansy, we should celebrate," said Hermione.

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

"You got a job! That's huge! I can go back to work now too. We'll do anything you want."

Pansy thought for a moment. "Dinner. And a movie. Ron, invite Suzette."

"Will do!"

"Tomorrow night," Hermione said.

Pansy gave Harry's head a squeeze and he reached his hand up to hold hers.

**ooo**

"Six in the morning."

Hermione looked up from her book as Pansy exited the candy shoppe. "What?"

"Six in the morning! That's when I have to be here! Every single day, Monday through Friday." She sat down beside Hermione in exasperation.

"So?"

"_SO_? It's so… _early_! "

"But you'll get out early, too."

"I know, but… you know how much I love my sleep!"

Hermione chuckled. "You'll get used to it, Pansy." Just then something caught Hermione's eye. A flash of something. She turned and just saw a shock of white-blond hair go into a shop across the street and down a few shops. Her mind went to Draco—could anyone else have such hair?

"I know," Pansy said, oblivious to Hermione change in attention. "But Merlin! The sun's not even up, I bet. Hermione?"

"What?" she said, whipping around to face Pansy again.

"You okay?"

"Yes, fine. Shall we go then?"

"Uh-huh," Pansy replied, her voice suddenly playful. "We have to get ready for tonight."

Hermione frowned. "Why?

Pansy grinned mischievously. "I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Hermione repeated, not daring to form in her thoughts that somehow Draco would be joining them. Of course he wasn't. How would Pansy have invited him in the first place? _She_ was the only one who wrote him.

"You'll see," Pansy replied evasively. "But it's nearly four and we've only got two hours until we go to dinner."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't need two hours to get ready."

"Tonight you do!"

"Pansy, what's the surprise?" Hermione asked, red sirens blaring. Then it hit her. "A … bloke?"

"Maybe …" she said.

"Who?" Hermione asked warily.

"It's a _surprise_. Hence the surprise. Now come on."

While Pansy fussed over her hair, Hermione mentally sulked. She had no desire whatsoever to spend her evening as someone's date. Unless, of course, the world had turned on its end and Pansy had invited Draco. Which had _not_ happened, and she needed to stop thinking about it.

Hermione dreaded dates when she _wanted_ to go on them—the smiling, the small talk, the awkward silences, wondering if he was going to make a move … and deciding if she'd let him. Tonight she'd be forced into the sole company of an unknown man, and she'd have to be pleasant about it. It wasn't his fault, of course, that Pansy had schemed to put them together. And then there would he the movie…

She inevitably thought of her dinner with Draco. It hadn't been a date, but she could now say that was true only because of a mere technicality. It had been nothing like a real first date. There had been no awkwardness, nothing forced at all. And every moment of conversation had been refreshing and stimulating. Her standards had been forever changed about what dating—and the bloke—should be like.

Pansy finished Hermione's hair and scurried off to ready herself. Hermione chose a simple, flowery skirt and purple … no, blue top. She had no intention of trying hard to impress … this person, whoever he was.

Someone knocked while Pansy was still busy so Hermione went to answer it. She expected it to be Harry, or Ron and Suzette, but instead she was treated to her surprise: Blaise Zabini.

"Hi," he said, flashing a dazzling smile. "Pansy here?"

Hermione stared at him for a second then shook her head. "Yes, she's still getting ready."

"You look nice, are you going out tonight?"

_Huh_, she thought. That was interesting; he didn't appear to know about the "surprise."

"Yes, I'm going with Pansy, Harry, Ron and Suzette tonight. As, I assume, are you."

He looked at her for a moment, then Blaise laughed. "Let me guess. This is a set-up."

Hermione reddened slightly. "Er, I uh, think so …"

Blaise shook his head. "Pansy is famous for this stuff. Oh, the things she pulled in school…"

"Really?" Hermione said, feeling relieved that she wouldn't be forced into 'date role' after all.

"Yes."

"Please, come in," she said finally, opening the door all the way and shutting it behind him when he'd entered. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am."

"She's… something else," he said, grinning.

"Blaise!" Pansy had entered the room. "I'm so happy to see you!" She crossed the room and hugged her friend.

"Hi, Pansy," he said patronizingly.

Pansy looked between Blaise and Hermione with a beaming smile. Then the door opened and the rest of their party entered. Slight chaos ensued, and finally all six of them Disapparated to reappear in the lobby of a wizarding restaurant.

They were seated at a round table, and Hermione sat between Harry and Blaise. All through dinner Pansy watched her and Blaise, hopefully and not at all discreetly.

Halfway through, Blaise leaned over to speak privately with Hermione. "So, still no Draco?"

"What?" Hermione said, her heart jumping at his question. Surely he couldn't know…

"She's not allowed to see him still, right?"

"Oh," she said, exhaling in relief. "Well, we're working on that. She saw him a week ago, at the Ball."

He nodded. "I remember. How did it go?"

Hermione gave him a strained smile. "Mostly fine. Hit a little bump at the end, but it's fine now."

"That's good. Hey, remember I told you I thought he liked someone?"

"Yes," Hermione said, the nerves building once again.

"Well, I pressed him hard enough and he admitted there's someone." Blaise sat back in his seat, proud as though he'd won some kind of small battle.

Hermione waited, and when Blaise said nothing more, said, "And?"

Blaise shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me anything else. Said he's not actually seeing the girl." He frowned. "It's all very much a puzzle to me. He usually at least gives me a few details. And he usually doesn't have to wait on the girl, either. Draco likes someone, he dates her. I've never seen one without the other."

Blaise's comments made Hermione smile and she said a silent thank you to Draco for truly not telling anyone, even his best friend.

"Don't worry, I'll get it out of him; I always do."

"I don't recall mentioning I was concerned about the matter," she said primly.

He looked at her sceptically. "No, you didn't. Of course." He fell silent then, and for a few minutes thereafter. It unnerved Hermione; what might he be thinking?

Then Harry spoke to her and eventually she noticed Blaise talking to Ron and Suzette. He said nothing further to her about Draco during dinner, but Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that he was still thinking about it.

Soon they were rushing to make the movie because no one had been paying attention to the time. When they entered the theatre, it was dark and quite full. So they split up to find seats and Hermione was left with Blaise. They found two seats in the very back corner of the room.

They sat silently for the first ten minutes and Hermione felt the awkwardness and tension increase steadily by the minute. Finally it approached unbearable, so she spoke.

"You know, these are the seats people sit in when they don't care to watch the movie and just want to snog."

He looked at her, incredulous, one eyebrow cocked. "Is that so?" Hermione nodded. "Are you suggesting we _follow_ this custom?"

She giggled. "No, I'm just trying to ease this … weird … thing."

"Ah. Yes. Well, consider it eased. So what is this movie, anyway?"

"It's an action movie. Lots of car chases, gun fights … Muggles love this kind of thing."

"Pansy likes this stuff?" he asked, incredulous. "I already have no idea what's going on."

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, she does, strangely. And you really have to pay attention to this one to get it."

"Huh. Well, oh well."

They spent the entire movie making fun of it, pointing out all the ridiculous, unbelievable things that happened. They were still laughing and talking when they met with the others in the lobby.

Pansy eyed them gleefully. "So? Did you two have fun?"

Blaise coughed to keep from laughing and Hermione smiled a really big smile. "Er, yes, we did."

"Excellent," Pansy said, linking arms with Harry. "Shall we call it an evening then?"

Everyone chorused their assent and separated. Harry wanted to see Pansy home—which was code for wanting at least five minute to snog in the hallway—so Hermione decided to walk part of the way. Blaise offered to keep her company and protect her from dangerous persons.

About halfway to her flat, after rehashing nearly the entire movie and all of its idiocy, Blaise said, "You know, I really _did_ have a good time tonight."

Hermione felt a warning bell go off in her head. "Oh, yes, me too."

He smiled, looking at the ground. "Can't believe Pansy wanted to try and set us up."

She couldn't help but wonder if he truly hadn't known about it at all. "Yeah, me either."

They walked in awkward silence, and Hermione got the feeling he might ask her out. She liked Blaise, she did, just not in that way. Besides, there was Draco … whom she likely would never truly be with … Still, he was in her heart, and it would be wrong to make Blaise think otherwise.

"Well, Blaise, I'll see you around," Hermione finally said.

"Oh, I—think they're … done?"

"Yes, probably. Goodnight!"

"Night," he said, forcing a smile, sounding somewhat deflated.

Hermione ran into an alley to Disapparate.

**ooo**

Hermione woke up early on Monday morning to make sure Pansy got out the door on time and to be encouraging and help in any way she could. Pansy was barely awake; she stumbled through the flat getting ready, she complained about her "uniform"—black pants and black shirt, plus black, flat shoes. Finally, at quarter til six, Pansy left. Hermione promised to stop by and take her to lunch, to which Pansy gave a half-hearted wave.

After seeing Pansy off, Hermione went back to sleep for an hour before getting ready to return to work herself. She'd written her boss on Friday telling him she was available whenever he needed her, and he had responded within a few hours asking her to come in that Monday.

It felt strange to her, getting up and going to work again. She had grown to very much enjoy working from home and especially wearing comfortable clothes. She intended to speak to her boss about the possibility of working from home a few days out of the month.

As promised, she met Pansy for lunch. She went to the shoppe, bought a few truffles (one to send to Draco) and perused the offerings while she waited.

When Pansy emerged from the shoppe, Hermione managed to say, "How are you?" before Pansy interrupted.

"Oh, I'm so tired, and my feet hurt from standing all day! All I've done so far—all day—is learn to use, and clean, the machines in the back. I didn't even _know_ there were machines for all of this—what happened to _magic_? And the number of places dough can get stuck … you wouldn't even _believe_! Oh, I don't think I can do this!"

"They told you it would be hard work," Hermione reminded her.

"I know," Pansy whined. "But I had no idea what that meant. Scrubbing and cleaning and … I'm so glad you showed me about all that, otherwise I would have felt incredibly stupid and useless. I thought I'd at least _learn_ about making sweets, even if I didn't get to do it right away."

"I reckon they're really teaching you how to run a shoppe, not just make candy. Remember? Think—one day you could open your own place."

They'd arrived at the café and took a seat outside.

"I know," said Pansy with a tired sigh. "I just… I don't know if I can do all this work."

"Of course you can!" said Hermione encouragingly. "I know you can. Just take it slowly. You'll eventually get used to the work, and you'll get to the fun stuff."

"I know …" Pansy sighed and then when she looked at Hermione, her eyes were sparkling. "I did see something neat today."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Nora was making a special batch of truffles—the raspberry ones—only she used her wand to stir the pot instead of a regular wooden spoon. I was intrigued, and as I watched, it seemed as though magic were being mixed in to the truffle mix."

"Really?" Hermione said, intrigued. She presently had three such truffles wrapped neatly in a small, silver box tied with a red bow in her purse.

"Yes. I wonder if she makes magical candy as well. I would truly love to learn to do that."

"Any idea what those truffles might do?"

Pansy shrugged. "I cannot say for sure, but I thought I caught Nora humming while she worked. She seemed to be in a good mood."

"Hmm," Hermione said, more to herself. Maybe she should test the truffle before sending it to Draco, especially as she did not know the effects of eating one.

Pansy yawned. "One thing's for sure: I need more sleep tonight."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I've got some news I think you'll be interested in…"

Pansy perked up; Hermione's news was usually very good. "What's that?"

"I'm thinking it's time for another dinner party. This time… with…_additional_ guests."

Pansy's eyes widened. "You mean, Draco?"

Hermione nodded.

"Okay, good. Because I'm completely okay with him now."

"Are you?" Hermione asked.

"I … you don't think so?"

Hermione shrugged. "You got upset with me over him last time."

"But … no, because of _you_, remember? Not him."

"Yes, but you shouldn't have been upset at all that he's with people. Or at me, if I just talk to him."

"I know that, I do. It's just … part of me still wants to like him. He's such an incredible guy…"

Hermione nodded. "That's understandable. So much of your life has involved him, and letting go of him, truly letting go, might feel like you're losing part of yourself. You're not though, just the hold he has on you, that you've given him."

"You know, you're right! So much of my life has revolved around him, and I feel like if I let him go, I'm letting myself go. I'm sort of admitting that I wasted all that time."

"Pansy, you weren't wasting your time. Nothing ever came of your feelings, but they led you here, to today. Life is always moving, always changing. Some people can't deal with it, and either jump off bridges or live the rest of their lives wanting to."

"Which is where I would be if it hadn't been for you," Pansy said seriously. "Hermione, if you hadn't…"

Hermione reached over and squeezed her hand. "No, Pansy, don't. I was there, that's all that matters."

She shook her head. "I still can't believe…"

"Stop," Hermione commanded. "Let's talk about something else. Okay? What are you doing when you go back to work?"

Pansy didn't answer right away and then shook her head and sighed. "Probably cleaning the loo." Hermione laughed, and Pansy smiled. "How is your work going?"

"Good," answered Hermione. "Although I'm spoiled – I just want to walk around the office in my pyjamas!"

"Too bad."

"Yeah. So the party … are you okay with it?"

Pansy nodded. "I really am, yes."

"Good. We'll start planning tonight. Another three weeks?"

"Yes, especially since we're both working now. Oh, I'm really excited. You know how much I love parties!"

"I do, and that's why I suggested it. A party at my flat will be a good, casual atmosphere for seeing him again. And Harry will be there, and your other friends."

"I'm ready," Pansy said, a determined look on her face. They spent the rest of Pansy's lunch time talking about the party and doing some preliminary planning.

**ooo**

**A/N:**Thanks for reading!


	7. Three's a Crowd

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Note**: Special thanks to my beta, kazfeist, for the beta job! You rock!

**ooo**

**Chapter Seven – Three's a Crowd**

The three weeks until the party passed quicker than for the first party. Every other evening, Pansy had arranged for them to meet with someone—for invitations, rentals, music (Pansy wanted to hire live musicians), linens, and décor.

The guest list remained largely unchanged from the first, save the addition of Draco and another of Pansy's friends. Eighteen this time, and an extra sofa would be required to accommodate them.

Pansy had a difficult time choosing the menu and Hermione suspected it was largely due to nerves associated with the act of feeding Draco. It had to be perfect, Pansy insisted, and not because she wanted his affections, but so he would see just how well she was doing. Hermione thought that a small part of Pansy also wanted him to know just what he was missing.

Finally –_finally_ – the Friday of the party arrived. Hermione was nervous; she thought she might have been more nervous than Pansy, even. Draco would be there, in her flat, talking to her friends, and she would have to watch. Treat him as though nothing had happened, as though there wasn't a special place in her heart that ached for him. Worse still, what if he'd finally decided that she wasn't worth waiting for, and showed up with someone?

Pansy was extremely nervous, but the schedule she and Hermione had settled on would leave little time for thinking. Just doing. They woke early and set right to work. Hours passed and they had to take lunch in shifts. Before either of them knew it, they both had only an hour to get ready.

Hermione had never cared more in her life about how she looked than when she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to decide what to wear. She could wear the purple dress he'd seemed to like, but maybe it was too… much. He'd get the wrong idea, which was actually the right idea, but she couldn't follow through, so it was wrong. Her next choice was green and she thought that, too might work against her.

In the end, she chose a fig-coloured v-neck dress made of pleated, pin-tucked voile over a simple cotton lining. The bodice buttoned in the back and a wide band of voile tied in the back. The fabric shimmered. She selected a pair of pale gold slippers fitted with decorated buckles and teardrop cutouts. A simple pendant of a ruby quartz surrounded by tiny clustered gems completed the look.

With a final look in the mirror and a sigh, Hermione left her room to meet Pansy, who looked drop-dead gorgeous in a low-cut silk dress in burnt orange. Pansy 'ooed' and 'ahhed' over Hermione's dress, saying she'd be sure to turn heads that night. Hermione politely thanked her and insisted she had no such intentions.

Harry arrived early, to help with final preparations and to help calm Pansy's nerves. Hermione smiled as she watched them together, so seemingly at ease with each other despite the huge obstacles – Ginny and Draco – that stood between them. She was relieved at Harry's complete turnaround, but she couldn't help but be wary that he would suddenly realize he was not ready for a relationship and break Pansy's heart.

Soon, guests were arriving. Hermione was assigned to answer the door, as Pansy wanted warning when Draco showed up. Seamus and Lavender arrived, and Hermione let them in. As she was closing the door, she noticed the lift opening and waited, in case a guest was getting off. The door slid open and Karen, one of Pansy's friends who'd attended their last party, stepped out in a deep blue, barely-there dress, smiling and looking at someone standing to her right.

Hermione's heart lurched when she saw that it was Draco. He was laughing at something Karen had said and followed her into the hallway. It seemed they were moving in slow motion as Hermione watched them approach. She could barely breathe, but she allowed herself the stolen moment to admire him. He walked with confidence and grace, and he looked incredible. He was wearing black pants, shiny black shoes, a light grey button-down shirt and a black tie. It was almost a physical pain seeing him laughing with the beautiful woman by his side.

Finally they arrived at the door and when her eyes met his, he smiled, just for her, and it twisted her heart into a knot.

"Granger," he said casually. "This is Karen. We met on the lift." He was looking at her intently, telling her with his eyes that she had nothing to fear.

Hermione blinked, and there was a rush of air as she finally inhaled after holding her breath for so long. He _hadn't_ come with her, after all!

"I know Hermione," Karen said prissily. She reached out to hug Hermione, who half-heartedly returned the gesture. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you. Please, come in." Karen walked in while Hermione held open the door.

When Draco walked in, he paused and held out a bottle of wine. "For the hostesses," he said with a slight smile.

"Thank you," Hermione replied. When she held out her hand to accept the bottle, their hands brushed, and for the briefest of moments she felt the entire room spin away, locked in his gaze. Only when he withdrew his hand did she realize he'd slipped something into hers. She wrapped her hand tightly around what felt like a slip of parchment and smiled as Draco continued into the flat.

With a deep breath, Hermione closed the door behind him and had to restrain herself from running into the bathroom to read his note. She carried the bottle to Pansy, who was in the kitchen.

Pansy took the bottle and smiled. "My favorite! So… he's here, then?"

"Yes," Hermione said, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

Pansy took a moment to mentally calm herself, then both women went into the dining room to begin dinner. Hermione had almost reached her seat when there was another knock on the door. She did a quick check of those already seated and saw that one person wasn't there.

She went to the door and Blaise smiled widely at her when she opened it. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers in varying shades of red.

"For you," he said, holding them out before she could even speak.

"Oh, my, Blaise, they're lovely," she smelled them, as she assumed was the required action when given flowers. "Thank you. Come on in, we're about to start dinner."

"Without me?" he said, pulling off his coat, still grinning at her.

Hermione smiled. "I know, imagine that. You _are_ late, you know. And you've been exposed to Pansy's schedules in the past."

"My apologies," he said.

"Let me get these in water."

**ooo**

Draco was talking to Parvati when he saw Hermione enter his field of view. Behind her trailed none other than Blaise. He noticed she was carrying a bunch of flowers, and that Blaise was talking closely with her. She smiled as they went into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with the flowers in a vase.

"Pansy, look what Blaise brought," Hermione exclaimed, setting the vase in the centre of the table.

"Oh, Blaise, they're lovely!" Pansy squealed, giving Hermione a look Draco didn't care for. It was too … knowing.

Draco watched as Hermione then took a seat on the opposite side of the table from him, leaving a seat for Blaise to sit beside her. He really didn't care for all the thoughts he was having; he knew Hermione had told him to move on. Had _she_?

Pansy was at the opposite end of the table, something for which he was very grateful. It would be bad enough sitting that close to Hermione and not being able to… well, hold her, and touch her, and convince her to leave the party early with him. He smirked at the idea.

"Draco!" said Blaise as he settled in his seat. "Nice to see you here!"

It took most of his strength to assume his usual indifferent manner toward his friend. "Likewise."

All through dinner, Draco didn't miss a single thing between Blaise and Hermione. He was nearly spitting fire he was so jealous, but if he really thought about it, he would have to admit it was mostly Blaise. He would lean to whisper in her ear, or casually-but-not touch her arm, or her shoulder, or her hair. Hermione reddened every time and stoutly refused to look at Draco; though for all he knew, she was merely flushed from being warm.

"So, Draco," said Blaise at one point. "I've told Hermione about your little secret and she's just as intrigued as I am."

Draco blinked and glanced as casually as he could at Hermione, who was looking at her plate, eyes wide. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Blaise."

Blaise smirked. "Right, sure you don't." He leaned forward so the people around them wouldn't hear. "I'm going to find out, you know I will. You never keep these things from me. Frankly, I'm surprised you still haven't told me. However, if you tell us now, it'll save you a lot of trouble later."

"What are you implying?" Draco asked, very annoyed.

"Only that I plan to torture you mercilessly once I learn who the mystery woman is. Have you _still_ not asked her out?"

Draco kept his eyes trained on Blaise despite desperately wanting to either reach over and strangle him or see what Hermione was doing. From the corner of his eye, it looked as though she'd struck up a conversation with the person sitting on her other side. "Must I remind you," he said quietly, "that it's complicated? And also not something to talk about, here and now."

Blaise chuckled. "Fine, fine. Keep your secret," he said, leaning back and putting his arm around Hermione's chair. "For now."

Finally the torture ended, and the table was cleared. Pansy announced that cake and coffee would be offered in the next room and Draco was so relieved he actually smiled. At Karen, who was sitting on his right side. She'd tried to get his attention throughout the meal, asking him about his work, his life, and general small talk. He'd been polite, for sure, but not encouraging. As he stood, she _accidentally_ brushed his hand with hers and quickly apologized, but he noticed the look in her eyes, the invitation, the question, nonetheless.

Hermione, Pansy and Harry retreated into the kitchen, Draco assumed, to get the pudding. He followed the crowd into the living room and Karen immediately latched onto him the way Pansy always had. It had the same effect with her as with Pansy, annoying him to no end.

Soon the cakes were brought in, both Hermione and Pansy carrying them around the room like waitresses, delivering them to their guests. Potter followed with a magical wine bottle that constantly refilled.

Draco excused himself from Karen and went to Pansy.

"Pansy," he said, calling her attention.

She turned toward him and smiled brightly. "Draco, I'm so glad you could come." She gave him a small hug, despite the tray in her hand.

"It's a lovely party."

"You're such a liar."

He smirked. "I'm not lying. The food was excellent, exquisite, even. Your personal touches are all over the place. May I?" he asked, indicating the tray.

"Oh, of course. Really, though? You liked dinner?"

"It was incredible. Did you make it?"

"Well," she said, obviously pleased with herself. "Mostly. Hermione helped, of course."

"Of course."

"Have you spoken to her at all?" Pansy asked.

"Just at the door, and only a few words."

"You really ought to try," Pansy said seriously. "She's wonderful. And Harry and Ron, too."

"If you say so," he replied. Harry walked up then and put a possessive hand at Pansy's waist. Draco inclined his head slightly. "Potter."

"Malfoy."

"The cake is delicious."

"Indeed. Pansy is incredible."

Draco smiled at Harry, then at Pansy and had to stifle a chuckle. Potter was worried! Merlin, what a ridiculous thought. If only they knew whom Draco was currently thinking about. He knew where she was at all times as though he could feel her presence by some extra sense. His entire body knew where she was in relation to it, pleading with him to reduce the distance between them.

After a moment more of small talk, Pansy and Harry disappeared into the crowd, leaving him standing alone, though only for a brief moment. Soon Karen was attached to him again, talking in a high, over-bubbly voice that grated on his nerves.

Time passed, and as it did, Draco developed a headache that then seemed to increase in intensity with every shrill laugh, every harsh guffaw. He scanned the room, looking for Hermione and found her talking closely,_again_, with Blaise.

He moved closer, hoping to catch something of their conversation before he spoke to her.

"… and then this car, I think the authorities, came careening down the street after the blue car, sirens wailing. Reminded me of that hideous film we saw."

Draco clenched his fist.

"I thought you didn't like it," he heard Hermione say in response.

"No, I didn't," Blaise said with a scoff. "But I still had a good time, despite the film."

_Sodding idiot_.

"It _was_ fun, wasn't it? Making fun of the horrid acting."

"And terrible effects."

Hermione laughed. "And that ridiculous wig the main character was wearing!"

"It was practically falling off! Surely they could have used some kind of… of sticking charm, or something."

"Blaise, you always do that. It's a _Muggle_ thing. They don't have sticking charms."

"Yes, well, they should. That or employ a wizard to work in the costume department."

Again Hermione laughed, sending waves of jealousy and at the same time, pleasant shivers through Draco's body.

"I don't think that's very likely to happen," Hermione said. Blaise said something Draco couldn't hear that led Hermione to say, "Blaise! You're terrible!"

"I distinctly remember _you_ being the mischievous one the other night," Blaise returned, his voice low and throaty.

Draco decided he'd had enough and skulked toward the pair. Blaise looked up as he approached and grinned. "Having a good time there, Draco?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Terribly." He turned to Hermione. "Granger. Pansy wishes to speak with you."

Hermione's expression was unreadable and more than ever before he wished he could know what she was thinking. It sounded very much like she'd been out with Blaise. He'd brought her _flowers_, for Merlin's sake. And he'd known Blaise long enough to know he fancied her.

"Oh, where is she?" Hermione asked.

"Kitchen."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, thank you." She turned to Blaise and smiled at him. It turned Draco's stomach. "If you'll excuse me," she said. Blaise nodded, and she left the two men together.

Draco scowled at the wine glass in his hand.

"Huh."

Draco looked up to find Blaise looking at him strangely. "What?"

"I – nothing," Blaise said, bewildered. "Just … how very interesting."

He was in no mood for games, especially with someone who was obviously interested in Hermione. "What's interesting, Blaise?"

At that moment, Karen returned and latched onto Draco's arm. "Where did you run off to?" she asked. Draco could see, or rather smell, that she'd had too much to drink. She was barely standing and she looked at him with slightly glazed eyes.

Blaise chuckled and excused himself.

Karen left Draco's arm and spun to stand in front of him. With a hazy smile, she reached up and put a hand on his face. It was too much for Draco. He carefully but firmly removed Karen's hand and decided he had to leave.

He couldn't stand to see Hermione and Blaise … talking, or flirting, or whatever it was they were doing. He refused to. He bade Karen a goodnight, and located Pansy, now standing with a few of her female friends near the coffee.

In a moment, he was by her side, pulling her gently away. "Pansy, I'm sorry about this, but I must go."

Her smiled faltered. "So soon?"

"Yes, unfortunately, I've got something early in the morning."

Pansy pouted, and he wasn't sure why on earth she cared if he stayed or went. She'd barely paid him any attention at all. "You work too much," she said.

"You say that a lot, you know."

"It's true."

He sighed. "Still, I have to go. It was a lovely party, Pansy. I mean it. You did an excellent job putting it together, and everyone is having a wonderful time."

"You're so sweet, Draco," Pansy said. "Well, if you must go, you must go. Do say something to Hermione before you leave though, this _is_ her flat."

"Of course," he said tersely. "I'm quite familiar with the social niceties, you know."

"Just didn't want you to try and get out of speaking with her. I noticed you barely said three words to _any_ of her friends tonight. You really should work on that."

"Whatever you say. Goodnight, Pansy."

"Night, Draco."

He was almost free. He looked around for Hermione and once more found her talking to Blaise. She was laughing, her eyes sparkling and he wanted nothing more than to punch Blaise square in the face. Not that he had any right to, of course; she was free, and he was free. Only his heart had been captured by her and it wasn't ready to be let go.

For the second time in fifteen minutes, Draco moved to interrupt them. He completely ignored Blaise's presence and spoke quickly to Hermione.

"Granger."

She turned toward him, that sparkling smile still on her face, and for a moment he was breathless. Her smile changed almost unnoticeably, but he saw it; the corners of her eyes lifted and her eyes softened. "Malfoy."

"I'm afraid I must go. Thank you for inviting me, it was a lovely party."

Something, a whole lot of things, flickered through her eyes, but she merely said, "You're welcome, I'm so glad you were able to make it."

"I'll walk out with you, Draco," said Blaise.

Both he and Hermione looked at Blaise, both surprised.

Blaise shrugged. "Early practice tomorrow. Sunrise."

"Oh, well, it was nice seeing you again," Hermione said to him.

He grinned at her. "You too. Take care, and I'll see you soon."

Hermione nodded and Draco turned to leave. He managed to avoid having to speak to anyone else, and completely ignored Blaise as they walked down the hallway toward the lift. Once on, Draco punched the button for the ground floor and turned to stand facing the doors.

"So it's her, then?" Blaise said.

Draco continued staring. "What is whom, Blaise?"

"Hermione."

"I don't follow. What about her?"

"She's the one. The girl you're crazy about."

Draco said nothing, only clenched his jaw so tight it was painful.

"Huh," said Blaise, and Draco heard amusement in his voice. "I've known you too long, Draco. I can tell it's her. It makes perfect sense … it's _very_ complicated."

Draco still said nothing.

"Does Pansy know?"

Draco turned his head to glare fire and brimstone at Blaise, silently wishing him a slow, painful death.

"I won't tell, don't worry. I just can't figure out how it happened, is all." After another moment, Blaise said, "Does _she_ know?"

Draco huffed and stared at the numbers as they slowly crawled toward one. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Right. So it's okay with you if I ask her out? Because … I think she fancies me."

The lift finally reached the bottom. As the doors opened, Draco said, "We aren't going to have this conversation." He walked into the lobby and out the door, leaving Blaise smiling bemusedly after him in the lobby.

**ooo**

Hermione was sad to see Draco leave, but relieved too; no more worrying about him and Pansy, or about Blaise talking to her so exclusively. She'd hidden the parchment slip from Draco, and as the party wound down, her thoughts were focused on it, wondering what it said.

When the last guest had gone, Hermione's relief was complete. Harry stayed to help with clean-up; when he too had left, Hermione bade Pansy goodnight, retrieved the parchment, and retired to her room.

She opened the slip; it read, "Spell me." Hermione smiled and tapped the parchment with her wand, casting the "spell check" charm she'd developed for work.

The parchment turned into another scroll like the first one he'd given her. This was thicker and longer than that one. With a squeal of excitement, Hermione hurried to change into pyjamas and settle in her bed to read the letter.

It was full. She'd asked him many more questions, and he had an opinion on nearly everything she wrote. Hermione noticed that for this scroll, he answered each letter as he read it; the handwriting changed slightly between entries, and occasionally he'd used a different colour ink than black.

It took nearly an hour for her to get through the entire thing and when she finished, she wasn't even tired. She got up and sat at her desk to write him back.

**ooo**

_Draco,_

_I've just finished your letter and it's nearly three in the morning, but I couldn't wait to respond._

_Tonight was really, really good. Pansy felt great, she was pleased with the interaction between the two of you. The entire evening went smoothly, and I'm beyond thrilled. I do hope you didn't think anything about Blaise … Pansy has got the idea of putting us together in her head and thus far, I've been unsuccessful in my attempts to dissuade her of the idea. Blaise is … a friend._

_I hope to be able to discuss in greater detail your proposal for your research project. I have enough questions about that alone to fill a two-foot slip of parchment! It sounds utterly brilliant. I appreciate the offer to work with you, but I must decline at this time, as you know…_

_Know that I would love to though, and I truly mean it. Granted, my current job is quite rewarding … a spell-check charm is incredibly useful. I use it on all my letters to you, and hope to move on to a grammar-check spell next. DO try and contain your excitement…_

_Who am I kidding? Not you, I know! I'd much prefer a career in research, working with potions, tweaking them, inventing them … I've recently become very interested in Muggle pharmaceutical companies—they create medicines for various diseases, as I'm sure you know—and think there could be applications in the wizarding world. Your company would be the perfect place to try out something like that. Generous financial backing, and an employer who understands the value of good quality_ _research and who cares about the human condition … well, wizarding condition, at least!_

_My favourite city in the entire world? Merlin, what a wonderful question! I've been to France, and Switzerland, and Spain. I love big cities, but I also adore the country. There's a small town in France, in Provence, called Arles, which I simply adore. I want to travel to Italy, and the Far East in my future …_

_What's next for Pansy, you ask? I suppose just being around you more and more, in increasingly familiar situations, until eventually it's just you two. I'm not worried about her, though. I truly believe she's going to be fine …_

_And now, I must say goodnight! Or rather, good morning and adieu. It's nearly five—Merlin! I'm glad it's Saturday and I can sleep now. I'll be in touch soon, I'm sure._

_OH! I read a book recently called 'The Mind's I' and I loved it—you should read it. I know how much we have in common in books, which I still find surprising. Anyway, Flourish and Blotts is having a big book sale on September the nineteenth, and I'm planning to go. They hold it twice a year, and they have really rare and old books as well. I love it—all those delightful books! And they serve refreshments … I'm hoping to find a first edition of that book I mentioned, but I'm not holding my breath. I know it's a few weeks away, but it's been on my calendar for months!_

_I truly enjoyed seeing you tonight. And your letter… I'm still wishing for all those things. I would love to see Paris with you. I would love to buy popcorn and pour butter and salt on it with you, and watch a horrible, sappy, romantic comedy with you. Just please, no action movies. I'm afraid Harry and Pansy have ruined them for me._

_I hope you have a wonderful week, and that your proposal presentation goes well on Tuesday. I'll be thinking about you._

_Always,_

Hermione 

**ooo**

**A/N:** Thanks again for reading! I truly hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	8. Birthdays and Books

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Note**: Special thanks to my beta, kazfeist, for the beta job! You rock!

**ooo**

**Chapter Eight – Birthdays and Books**

Pansy had been working a week when Hermione returned home to find the entire flat dark in the middle of the afternoon. The lights were out, windows shut, and curtains drawn. Hermione was surprised; she always left them open.

Quietly she went to Pansy's room and found the door shut. She knocked. When Pansy didn't respond, she knocked again, her blood freezing in her veins and her heart pounding furiously against her ribcage. Again, Pansy made no response, so Hermione opened the door, trying to prepare herself for whatever she would find and knowing that she never could be.

Pansy's room was as dark as the rest of the flat and there was a large lump on the bed completely covered by blankets. Hermione's heart was still racing but she stayed perfectly still, too scared to move, and watched the bed intently. After a moment, she could detect a very faint but steady rise and fall of the bed sheets, and she exhaled in relief, feeling suddenly weak.

Hermione moved into the room and sat on the bed, in part because she thought her legs might give out. Pansy woke with the depression of the bed and looked at Hermione through red, puffy eyes.

"Hey," said Hermione, thankful her voice was steady.

Pansy sniffed. "Hey."

"What's going on? Why are you in bed already?"

Pansy shrugged and looked away from Hermione. She sniffed again and her eyes filled with tears, so Hermione got her a tissue from the bedside table. She noticed Pansy's potions sitting out, almost full, though Hermione was sure Pansy had been given them a few weeks before.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, handing Pansy the tissue. "Why are these bottles so full?"

"I felt better," Pansy whined, sitting up just enough to blow her nose. "So I didn't think I needed them anymore."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "We've talked about this before. You've got to keep taking those potions as you've been told by Matilda, until she tells you otherwise. Even when you think you don't need them."

"I know," said Pansy miserably.

"You feel better because they're working, but if you stop, you'll feel bad again."

"I know."

Hermione gently rubbed Pansy's back for a few minutes in silence. Then she asked, "Did something happen?" She knew that there had probably been a trigger to send Pansy back into a low and into bed. "At work?"

"Nora yelled at me."

"Why?"

"She said I didn't clean the mixer right. I was supposed to remove all traces of magic first, and then clean it. I forgot."

"I'm sure she was only concerned about your safety," Hermione said.

Pansy wiped her eyes. "I guess. And I know how to clean it, I've done it every day this week. I'm just so worthless!"

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, gently shaking Pansy's shoulder. "You just made a mistake, that's all. Everyone makes them, it's nothing to worry about."

"You weren't there. You didn't see her expression. She's not going to let me come back, I just know it!"

Hermione took a deep breath to rein in her impatience. She'd been terrified that something had happened to Pansy just a few moments before, and she needed to remember that the woman still needed help, despite how far she had come. "Of course she's going to let you come back. Pansy, please don't worry about this anymore. Have you taken your doses for today?"

Pansy shook her head.

"Here." Hermione took all four bottles off the bedside table and Conjured four glasses, then poured the prescribed amount of potion in each glass. "Take these, have a nap, and then we'll see how you feel. All right?"

"Okay." Pansy drank each potion without another word.

Hermione gave her a hug and sat with her while she cried again, and then feel asleep in her arms.

**ooo**

Pansy got her first pay check after working for three weeks. Of all the things she'd accomplished since Hermione had taken her in, that put the biggest smile on her face. She showed it to Hermione when she got home from work, nearly bursting with excitement.

Hermione told her she needed to open an account at Gringotts, and they would go on Monday. Then they talked about what Pansy would do with her money.

Pansy wanted to give the whole check to Hermione, but she said no, that Pansy should get some of it for herself as a reward. They discussed Pansy paying part of Hermione's rent and utilities every month. Hermione didn't require half at first, just a quarter. They agreed that after three months, it would increase to one-third, then in another three, to one-half. Unless, by then, Pansy wanted to live on her own.

Hermione insisted that Pansy start saving, even if just ten or twenty galleons per check. Pansy reluctantly agreed. Then she thought long and hard about what she wanted to buy as a reward to herself. She debated between a personal mixer and a new pair of shoes. Hermione hoped she'd go for the mixer, but Pansy chose the shoes in the end.

"A 'me' treat," she said, walking out of the shop with Hermione and a shopping bag on Tuesday afternoon, after getting off work.

"I'm glad you got something you like," said Hermione, scanning the street.

"I _love_them, Hermione," said Pansy in a whimsical tone. "And speaking of things, your birthday is next week, isn't it?"

Hermione smiled to herself. "Yes, it is."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"Actually," started Hermione, "There's a book sale at Flourish and Blotts—they only have it once a year—that I really want to attend."

Pansy frowned. "But…that's not fun! We should have dinner, see a movie. With Harry and Ron and…Blaise?"

Hermione looked at Pansy with a strained smile.

"You don't really like Blaise, do you?" Pansy asked.

"He's a very, very nice man. And I _do _like him, just…not the same way you like Harry."

Pansy looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Well, I thought you two got along quite well at the movie, and he couldn't take his eyes off you at the party."

Hermione sighed. If it weren't for Draco, she probably _would _have been interested in Blaise. But the fire between her and Draco was too amazing to be ignored or pushed aside. Compared to him, Blaise was only a very tiny spark.

"I know, and we did have a good time, but…you can't _make _yourself like someone. It just doesn't work."

"True," said Pansy. "Well, okay, no Blaise. That's perfectly fine. Invite whomever you'd like, then."

"I want to spend my birthday at the bookstore, Pansy. I know it doesn't make sense to you, that it doesn't sound like a good time, but it's what I want to do. We can go out for dinner the night before, if you'd like."

"Okay. That sounds fine. I'll talk with Harry and we'll pick someplace to go."

"Lovely!" said Hermione. "Ooh, look at those chocolates!" she exclaimed, stopping outside the sweet shop. "I'm going to buy a few. I'll just be a minute!"

**ooo**

Hermione went to dinner the night before her birthday as she'd promised Pansy. Harry, Ron, Suzette and Blaise were there, and for a moment, Hermione thought Pansy had chosen to disregard her feelings about Blaise.

However, it seemed as though Blaise had backed down a bit. He was still every bit as nice and friendly, but the casual touches, the deep, dark looks he would give her, were gone. Instead, he behaved in a somewhat protective manner, defending her whenever Ron gave her a hard time, sticking up for her, and refraining from laughing at jokes made at her expense. It was all in good fun, but Blaise seemed to take it all very seriously.

He gave her a book for her birthday entitled "Potions Research: A Practical Guide." Everyone at the table looked at him, quite puzzled, Hermione most of all.

"You getting into a new career?" Harry asked.

Hermione cast Blaise a questioning glance. He merely winked. "No, not that I'm aware of," she said. "Thank you Blaise, I'm sure it'll be interesting."

"You think Hermione should get a new job or something?" asked Ron.

Blaise shrugged. "If the opportunity presents itself, why not?"

Hermione frowned. Was it possible Draco had told his friend that he'd offered her a position in his company? There was no other reason Hermione could come up with to explain Blaise's gift.

"Open the rest of your presents," Blaise said. "I'm quite curious about that long, thin box."

Pansy's face lit up. "Oh, yes, open that!"

Hermione read the card attached to the box. It was from Harry _and_ Pansy. She quirked an eyebrow and looked at Harry. "Joint gifts?"

He shrugged and smiled intensely at Pansy.

Hermione shook her head and opened the box. Inside was an old-fashioned fountain pen, complete with a set of inks. Hermione smiled. "Oh, Harry! This is beautiful!" She lifted the pen from the box and examined it. "Wow, thank you!" she exclaimed.

"It was Harry's idea," said Pansy excitedly. "We had quite a time finding it though! Had to go to quite a few Muggle shops before we found one Harry and I both agreed you'd like."

Hermione smiled. "It's perfect, thank you!"

"Glad you like it," Pansy said, beaming.

"Ours next," said Ron, handing her a suspiciously book-shaped package.

Hermione smiled. "Another joint gift?" she said, taking the package. "Is there anything we should know, Ron?"

He reddened and Suzette patted his arm. "Not just yet," she said sweetly.

"Just open the present," said Ron, draping his arm around Suzette.

"It was Ron's idea," said Suzette quickly.

Hermione made a show of opening the gift. When the paper was removed, a thick, gilded book was revealed. "Antony and Cleopatra," she said, raising an eyebrow at Ron. "_Your _idea?"

Ron smirked, but said nothing.

The pages of the book were gold and Hermione opened to the first page. She flipped through a few pages, but when she went to look deeper into the book, she found that most of the pages were sealed together somehow. Curious, she inspected the book more closely. After about twenty pages of text, instead of a continuation of the story, the book was hollow. And inside the hollow was a selection of imported, exquisite chocolate.

Hermione laughed. "Ron! This is hilarious! It—it's perfect!"

"Ze man said you could hide valuable in zhere."

Hermione nodded; she'd seen Muggle devices that looked like something ordinary but were really a small safe. "Thank you! I can't wait to try the chocolates."

"Sure you won't come to the movie with us tomorrow, Hermione?" asked Blaise.

"I'm sure. I really, really want to go to this book sale. There are a few books I'm looking for specifically, and the chance only comes around once a year."

"But it's your birthday," said Harry.

"I _know_. Don't you want me to get to do what _I _want to do?"

They all chorused yes except Blaise who was watching her intently.

"Then you know where you can find me tomorrow night from nine until near eleven. All right?"

**ooo**

As soon as Hermione had seen Pansy off to the movie the following evening, she grabbed her jumper and bag and Apparated to Diagon Alley. The bookstore would close at its regular time at eight to regular customers, but anyone who'd reserved a ticket for the sale event would be admitted at eight-thirty.

Hermione got in the queue lined up outside the shop at quarter past eight. She'd brought parchment and her fountain pen in order to write to Draco while she waited. Finally, the doors opened and the employees of Flourish and Blotts let them in after checking their tickets.

The event was very prestigious. Waiters in dress robes circled with wine—the glasses charmed to always remain vertical, no matter how hard they were pushed, to protect the books—and hors d'oeuvres. Hermione had even worn a sleek black skirt with a button down white shirt, black heels and a wide, black and white polka-dot ribbon in her hair.

Quickly, she scanned for the few books she'd gone for, finding all but one—the one she'd most wanted. She refused to let it bother her, however, and began perusing everything the sale had to offer.

Hermione was in the aisle of Potions books, engrossed in a book she'd been referred to out of the book Blaise had given her, when someone else entered the aisle. She barely registered the newcomer's presence until he'd moved right next to her.

"Excuse me, Miss, but can you help me find a book on love potions?"

Hermione was surprised at the question and looked up. She smiled warmly; it was Draco. "Love potions?" she said quickly. "Having trouble in the romance department?"

"Yeah, I can't seem to get this girl to go out with me."

"And you think a love potion is the answer," she said, closing the book in her hands and leaning against the shelf.

"I've tried just about everything I could think of. I've been charming, paid her compliments, listened to her for _hours _as she told me her life story…"

"Hey!" Hermione said, swatting his arm with the book. "I thought you_wanted _me to write to you about what's going on with me!"

He chuckled. "I _do_, of course. I'm joking." He leaned against the shelf as well and looked into her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"You're here," he said simply.

"Right…but why are _you _here?"

"It's your birthday."

Hermione blinked. She hadn't told him that in her letters. "How did you know?"

A shadow passed over Draco's countenance but was gone so quickly Hermione wasn't sure she'd really seen it. "_Blaise _mentioned he was going out with you and your friends last night to celebrate your birthday."

"Oh," Hermione said, not breaking eye contact with him.

"And, I wanted to see you. On your birthday."

She blushed and smiled.

"How was dinner?" he asked.

"Fine. Blaise gave me a book, Harry and Pansy a pen, and Ron and Suzette chocolates."

He nodded. "I can't believe you came to a bookstore on your birthday."

"Well, as I didn't have any _viable _options," she said, replacing the Potions book on the shelf. "It was the most appealing thing left."

He smiled. "Understandable. Will you let me take you out?"

She looked at him and saw that he was completely serious. "No, I can't."

"It's only dinner," Draco said. "And I happen to _know _that Pansy is safely tucked away inside a very dark movie theatre with her boyfriend until eleven this evening."

Hermione bit her lip. "I… no, I can't, Draco."

He sighed. "Fine, Didn't expect you to say yes anyway. Have you found that book you mentioned yet?"

"No, they didn't have it," she said. "But I found a few others I'd been looking for."

"Well, they _did_, but when they opened for the sale, someone had already purchased it."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"Because I did the purchasing."

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure you got your book. I came by this morning and spoke to the owner. He's a reasonable man—we were able to come to a reasonable agreement."

"By that you mean you paid him more than the book was worth."

"Something like that," Draco replied, grinning.

"That was very sweet of you, Draco."

He reached into his robe and pulled out a beautifully wrapped package. "Here. My aunt wrapped it—not me. Andromeda, of course. Happy birthday."

Hermione smiled and took the book. "Thank you." Then she looked down to open the gift and saw that there was another, smaller, wrapped box on top of the book. It was not nearly as extravagantly wrapped as the book, but it was still done well. She looked at Draco curiously.

He was watching her. "I had hoped I could give it to you somewhere less…casual, but as you refused my dinner invitation, I have no choice."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Open it, Hermione."

She hesitated, then handed him the wrapped book and kept the other gift. Carefully, she removed the shiny green bow, then the silver ribbon, and started on the paper.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione! Rip it!"

She gave him a sly smile and continued her methodical removal of the silver and green paper. Finally, a long, think black box was revealed, very similar to the one that had held her pen from Harry and Pansy.

"Draco…"

"_Open_, Hermione."

She did, feeling her stomach clench into knots. Inside was a beautiful necklace. Hermione gasped and looked at him.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Oh, Draco! It—it's absolutely beautiful!"

He breathed out in relief. "Good."

"I…I can't accept this."

"Why not?"

"It's too much!"

"Nonsense," he said. "I saw it and I thought of you. It just…looked like you. I'm glad you like it."

"I do, very much, but I can't keep it. What if Pansy saw?"

"It's a gift," Draco said with a shrug. "I'm sure you'll be able to keep it out of her sight." He looked into her eyes and it sent rolls of shivers through her. "Happy birthday."

"But the book—"

"I would have done that any day."

Hermione slowly smiled at him and then looked at the necklace. "It's purple."

"You know," he said, crossing his arms. "I've really come to appreciate purple."

Hermione giggled. "Is that so?"

"You looked exquisite in purple." He cocked his head to the side. "Although, brown was lovely too. I'm sorry I didn't get to say anything to you at the party, but…you looked incredible."

"Thank you," she said, looking at the necklace. "It's so very pretty. It's a shame I won't be able to wear it out much."

"Save that for… later. When you _can _wear it."

She nodded.

Draco took a step toward her, leaving only a very small space between them. "May I put it on you?" he asked, lifting her chin to look at him.

"Please," she said breathily. Quickly she handed him the box and turned around, afraid that if she looked at him one instant more her resolve would fail.

Gently he reached around her to take both ends in his hands and brought them together, clasping them. All thought of where they were seemed to fade as he let his fingers linger on her neck. She felt him come even closer and he whispered, "You're beautiful," in her ear, making the fine hairs on her neck stand on end. Then he kissed her behind the ear and Hermione thought she would collapse from the intense sensations running all through her, causing fireworks to explode inside her.

Without thinking she closed her eyes and tilted her head ever so slightly, giving him more room. He put his hands on her shoulder and kissed her again below where he'd kissed her the first time, then trailed a finger along her neck to her shoulder.

"Draco," she whispered, unable to say anything else.

"Mmm?" he said, breathing on her neck.

"I…"

He pulled back, and she could think and breathe again, taking his hands off her. "I'm sorry," he said.

Hermione whirled around to face him. "No, don't be sorry. Please, don't be sorry."

Draco shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "I'm only sorry that my actions might have led you to compromise your friendship and all you've done with Pansy."

She smiled. "Thank you for understanding."

"I'm trying, but…Hermione, you should know…I _like _you."

She blushed and looked away.

"I am completely enchanted by you. And it's not going away. _I'm _not going away."

Tears pricked her eyes. It wasn't fair! No one had ever made her feel the way he did, no one had ever treated her the way he did, and yet she couldn't have him! She couldn't be with him. Hermione took a few steps away from him and picked up the stack of books she'd accumulated before he arrived.

With a brave smile she didn't feel, Hermione said, "How long were you planning on being here?"

"As long as you're here," he said.

She gave a nod. "I think another hour or so."

Draco grinned. "Excellent. There's this book I saw on my way in that made me think of you and I wanted to show it to you."

With a nod toward the front of the store, Draco started toward it. Hermione quickly wiped her eyes and followed.

**ooo**

When Pansy came home that night, Hermione was snuggled on the couch, in a blanket and pyjamas, reading. Her gift from Draco was safely stowed away in her drawer with the special locks. She had her book open, and she was looking at it, but she wasn't reading. She was thinking about Draco, allowing herself a little bit of time to imagine how her life would change if she and he were together.

"Hey, Hermione," said Pansy, tossing her jumper and purse on a chair. "How was your night?

"Fine," Hermione said with a wistful sigh, tucking her memories away.

"I wish you'd come to the movie, it was really fun."

"You know I'm not a huge fan of those movies."

"Blaise is really starting to come around. I think he actually _liked _this one."

Pansy plopped onto the sofa beside Hermione. "It's really too bad there's no chemistry between you two. I asked Blaise about it tonight, and he said he wished, but no."

Hermione sighed. "Sometimes I feel the same way." It would certainly make things much simpler if she liked Blaise. But then she wondered if she only thought of Blaise because of Draco. She'd been around Blaise before and never thought about him beyond friendship. Perhaps being unable to be with Draco made her in some way want to be with _someone_. Draco was showing her how amazing a really good relationship could be, and she wanted that.

"But, like you've said to me over and over, you can't force these things," said Pansy.

Hermione smiled. "Exactly." She yawned. "Well, I think I'm going to bed."

"Oh, wait!" said Pansy, jumping up. "Your birthday present! Wait right here."

"You already gave me something!" Hermione called as Pansy ran through the flat. She returned after a couple of minutes.

"Here," she said, handing Hermione a prettily wrapped package. "This is something just from me."

"Thank you," Hermione said and then started untying the ribbon. When she pulled the paper off, a small, six-inch square painting was revealed. It was of the bridge where Hermione found Pansy, the perspective from one end, painted as it had looked in the spring with a flower stand in the foreground. "It's beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed, holding it up.

"I wanted to give you something special. I thought, the place that initiated our friendship was a nice idea."

Hermione grinned. "It's amazing, Pansy! You really have quite a talent!"

Pansy blushed. "Thank you. It's the first thing I've tried since leaving Draco's. I wanted to see if I still enjoyed painting, and I do, very much. I hope now that I have settled into a routine, I'll have more time for it."

"I think that's wonderful," Hermione said, standing and giving Pansy a hug. "Thank you, really. I love it."

"I'm glad. Well, you were heading to bed, as I recall," said Pansy.

"Yes. Thank you again. Good night."

"Night, Hermione."

Hermione went to her room and looked around for a place to hang the painting. It was small, so it needed a special spot that wouldn't overwhelm it. She chose the wall beside her desk, partly as a reminder of why she was determined to see this thing she had started with Pansy through to the end.

**ooo**

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! The necklace given to Hermione is a 1910 Edwardian antique. I found it on I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Hot Tin Roof

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Note**: Special thanks to my beta, kazfeist, for the beta job, and for going back through all the previous chapters and betaing the changes. You rock! Also, thanks to eilonwy, for the long chats about this fic, for encouraging me to rework it, and talking through glitches with me.

**ALSO: **The reason for the long wait for this chapter is that this story needed a minor overhaul. As a result, chapters 1-8 have been edited, with a few important additions here and there that will impact future chapters. If you wish, have a look at the newly reposted chapters.

**ooo**

**Chapter Nine – Hot Tin Roof**

The next two weeks passed quickly. Pansy was essentially self-sufficient, and Hermione was very busy with work. She spent all of her free time reading, hanging out with Pansy, or writing to Draco. Pansy had even mentioned finding for her own flat and had started looking, but the prices quickly deterred her.

On the very first day in October, a Saturday, Hermione had planned for Pansy to see Draco once more. It was, she hoped, to be the last time she coordinated their interactions. Matilda Maphet believed Pansy was ready to be allowed to see him whenever she wished, and one more occasion was required in order to test her.

There was a special, one-time showing of a popular Muggle play and, thanks to names like Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy, they were able to get eight prime box seats.

Blaise had asked Hermione to go and she'd said yes, though as friends. Blaise had smirked and replied, "Of course."

Everyone would have a date; which meant Draco would have a date. Pansy would see him with another woman, in very close quarters.

The night of the show, Hermione dressed in a very special replica of a 1938 evening dress. It was made of black silk satin with a black silk net overlay embroidered with black sequins. The inner dress was strapless, and the overlay added thin straps that formed a "V" in the front. She'd seen it in a vintage magazine and Pansy had surprised her with a handmade replica—commissioned—for "another birthday present." Hermione suspected Harry's involvement.

A simple string of pearls and a pair of pearl and diamond earrings completed the look, along with a pair of strappy heels. Pansy did her hair, looping it into an intricate up do with pearl-studded pins strategically placed in her hair.

Pansy wore a dark red gown with a deep V in the front and a deeper V in the back. Hermione hated her for a few seconds because she looked absolutely perfect.

"You're gorgeous, Pansy," said Hermione with a sigh.

"You too," Pansy replied with a smile.

"You're an excellent liar," Hermione teased.

Pansy's eyes widened. "I'm _not _lying!"

The bell rang and Hermione rushed to the door to admit Harry, Ron, and Suzette. Blaise, Draco and his date would meet them at the theatre.

"Wow, Hermione!" said Ron, kissing her on the cheek. "Who are _you _trying to impress?"

"Oh, 'ermione, you look exquisite, magnifique!" exclaimed Suzette. "Twirl."

Hermione complied, reddening slightly at the attention. When she stopped, Harry was looking at her. "You're incredible, Hermione."

"Just wait until Pansy walks in the room," she said, waving him off. "No one will remember me."

"Don't say that," said Ron with a disapproving frown.

"Everyone ready?" said Pansy excitedly as she entered the room. Harry's head shot around to look at her and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"See?" Hermione whispered to Ron and Suzette.

"Oh, 'ee doesn't count, ee is in love with her," said Suzette encouragingly.

"Let's go, Pansy," Hermione called, heading out the door. Her stomach was in a mass of knots and she wanted to get the evening started, so that the end would come sooner.

**ooo**

When they arrived, Blaise was waiting. He blinked when he saw Hermione and bit his lip. Then he smiled and walked to them.

"Evening all," he said, taking Hermione's hand and kissing it. "You're absolutely stunning, Hermione."

"Thank you," she said, feeling the knots tighten.

"Is Malfoy here yet?" Ron asked, standing on his toes to look behind Blaise.

"I haven't seen him. But he won't be late, I assure you."

Just when Blaise finished speaking, the front door opened and a pretty, dark haired woman walked in wearing a pretty, dark teal blue, tea-length dress. She had a black wrap around her shoulders and as she stepped over the threshold, she turned around and laughed at something the man behind her had said.

_That_ would be Draco.

He looked as impeccable as he always did, his pale hair in perfect order and wearing a black tuxedo.

Hermione swallowed hard.

Then Draco put his hand on the woman's back, gently steering her toward the group he'd already spotted. They were both smiling and Hermione thought she might be sick.

"Draco!" said Blaise, shaking hands with him.

Draco appeared surprised to see his friend, and after a quick glance at the whole party, his eyes narrowed, if only very slightly. Only Blaise noticed, and he grinned.

"Good evening," Draco said, addressing everyone. "You remember Karen, I'm sure," he said, smiling at the witch he'd come with.

"Nice to see you," said Harry.

The others greeted her as well.

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off Draco and she didn't even care that she was staring. He had greeted everyone else but her. When he turned to her, he flicked his gaze over her and when their eyes met, for just a brief instant, Hermione felt she would drown in the look he was giving her. But it was too short; he looked away from her, leaving her feeling empty.

Draco, who had purchased the tickets, handed them out and then ushered the group toward the stairs.

On their way, Pansy pulled Hermione aside.

"I cannot _believe_ he brought her!" she hissed.

"Why?" said Hermione.

"Because! She's my friend! I cannot _believe_ she's seeing him! _Is_ she seeing him? Or is this a one-time thing?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Pansy, there's no way I can know the answer, but…if I had to guess, I'd say they're seeing each other." Hermione hated to admit it out loud, but it truly looked as though Draco were seeing Karen. Despite the emotions churning inside her, both of insane jealousy and confusion, she had to present an impassive front for Pansy. "You knew he was going to bring someone."

"Yes, but…a _friend_ of mine? How _could _she?"

"When I think about it, this makes sense. I mean, did we _really _think he would date someone you've never met? You know how small the wizarding world is; it's very unlikely he'd date someone you didn't know."

Pansy's shoulders slumped. "I thought she was my friend."

"She is," whispered Hermione.

They reached the top of the stairs and Pansy returned to Harry's side. When they reached their box, Harry and Pansy, and Blaise and Hermione sat in the front row, with the others behind them.

All through the first half, Blaise did everything he could to annoy Draco, who was seated behind him. He'd lean over and whisper to Hermione—who sat perfectly still throughout the entire thing—or brush her hand with his…at one point, he even put his arm around Hermione's seat. When his hand reached up to rub Hermione's shoulder, Draco accidentally-on-purpose kneed him in the head.

When intermission arrived, Hermione needed to get away from both Blaise and Draco. She didn't know what was going on—she thought Blaise_ knew _they were just friends. He had been acting so strange lately.

As soon as they were in the hallway, Hermione feigned that she'd forgotten something in her seat. Blaise offered to get it for her, but she declined.

"I'll meet you all downstairs."

"By the bar," said Ron with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and turned back toward their box. She sat in her seat and took a few deep, calming breaths. She'd told him to move on…had he? Or was this an act, for Pansy's benefit?

"Excuse me, Miss."

Hermione looked up to find a theatre employee holding a small dustpan and a brush.

"Oh, sorry," she said, standing and quickly exiting the box.

When she found her friends, everyone but Draco was there. Pansy was silently glaring at Karen when she thought the other witch wasn't looking. Harry and Ron were walking about Quidditch with Blaise, and Suzette was chatting with Karen.

Pansy grabbed Hermione's wrist when she joined the circle. "Draco's gone to try and get us into the after party. It's supposed to be really nice."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said, somewhat disappointed. More than anything, she longed for her warm bed and a carton of ice cream; not necessarily in that order.

Suzette and Karen wandered off to go to the loo, and Harry pulled Pansy aside.

"Fancy a drink, Hermione?" Blaise asked, touching her elbow.

"Oh, yes, please," she said.

"Ron?" Blaise said, and they both wandered toward the bar.

Hermione was alone for at most a few seconds before Draco returned. He had a strange look in his eyes and he glanced in the direction Blaise and Ron had walked.

"So… are we going? To the after thing?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, um, all eight of us."

Draco made a quick movement with his wand causing Hermione to drop her program. They both reached down to pick it up, he ostensibly to pick it up for her. In the brief moment when their heads were close, he whispered, "Blaise knows."

Hermione froze and looked at him, eyes wide.

"Just…_me_, anyway," Draco said, hoping she would understand that Blaise only knew about Draco's feelings and not hers as well.

Hermione stood up and for a moment felt completely dazed. Draco blinked at her, and she looked away, taking a deep breath.

"Thanks," she said. "For… helping me."

"No problem."

"What's with you and Blaise?" she asked, hoping they had a few moments to talk.

He shook his head once, slightly. Blaise and Ron returned and Blaise handed Hermione a drink. She didn't even look at it, feeling too out of sorts to think, and downed it in one go.

The three men were surprised. Hermione smiled, handed the glass back to Blaise. "Woo. Thank you, I needed that. Well, I'm going to go sit down. Excuse me."

She hurried back to her seat and after the lights had been flashed, the others slowly filed in around her. Blaise asked her if she was okay, to which she gave him a quick smile and a positive response.

She could tell he didn't quite believe her.

**ooo**

After the play, Draco led them to the ballroom for the after party. The entire cast was to be present, with an elegant spread of desserts and hors d'oeuvres, and a generous selection of wines paired with the dessert offerings.

It was a wonderful party, but Hermione wanted to be home. When the dancing started, she watched as Draco and Karen danced three songs in a row.

Pansy was watching too, and when the pair took a break, she found Hermione by the punch bowl.

"Have you danced with Blaise?" she asked.

"No. I'm not feeling too well," Hermione replied. "You and Harry?"

"Yes, but…"

Hermione looked at her friend. "What?"

"It's just… weird to see them together," Pansy said, taking a sip of wine. "I don't know what he _sees _in her."

"Don't think about that," Hermione insisted. "There's no point in thinking like that. It doesn't matter what he sees in her. Not really."

"You're right, but…" Pansy sighed. "I can't get over the fact that she's my friend. Friends aren't supposed to date your ex-boyfriends."

"He's not really your ex," Hermione replied, somewhat on autopilot. She was having all of the same thoughts as Pansy, only she reckoned she felt _worse _than Pansy. Considering everything Draco had said to her.

"Well, sort of. Fourth year…"

"Pansy, that was a long time ago."

"Yes, but she _knows_. She knows how much there is—or was—with me and him. How could she do this to me?" Pansy was nearing tears, Hermione could tell.

"Maybe you should talk to her."

"I thought about that, but… I'm supposed to be getting over him. I'm supposed to _not _care."

"So do you? Not care, I mean?" Hermione asked.

"I care… because she's _with _him, and I thought she was my friend. _Not _that he's with someone."

"Well… who could he show up with that you'd be okay with?" Hermione asked.

Pansy chuckled. "No one, I guess."

"You have to be okay with anyone."

"Anyone?"

"Even…even your friends," Hermione said, testing the waters somewhat.

"Do you think I should… say hi to him?" Pansy asked.

"Sure, why not? He's your friend."

"He's alone right now, I think I'll go say hi."

"Okay."

Pansy left and made her way across the room. Draco smiled warmly at her, and Karen left his side and made her way toward Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione," Karen said with a big smile.

"Hi, Karen. How are you?"

"I'm well, and you?"

"Just great, thanks."

"Blaise is such a sweetheart, you two make a lovely couple."

Hermione clenched her jaw. "We're not together."

"Oh! I'm sorry! It just looks—he's so attentive—I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right," said Hermione

"Is Pansy… okay with this?" asked Karen. "I don't want things to be… weird."

"You should definitely talk to her about that. Not me."

"Right, I'm sure you're right, but you're also taking care of her, in a way. Draco told me everything you've done for Pansy, and it's really, really wonderful."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "He's told you _everything_?"

Karen shook her head. "No, not everything, I'm sure. Just that you've taken Pansy in and taught her how to do things, like cook and clean—valuable skills, I'm sure—and helped her get a job."

"Oh. Well, yes. I have helped her with those things."

"Draco thinks the world of you, the way he talks about you."

Hermione thought she caught a bitter tone in the other woman's tone. Then she reasoned that, as Pansy's guardian with respect to Draco, she had every right to ask questions. "Karen… how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Well…" she smirks. "I guess it's your job to keep up with that kind of thing, isn't it?"

Hermione smiled wryly. "Yeah."

"You keep Pansy happy or placated…Tell her the truth in a nice, kind way."

"Something like that," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"It's been about three weeks, but they've been the most amazing weeks of my life," Karen replied wistfully.

Something about that hit her funny. "Three weeks…" she repeated.

Karen nodded and continued. "Only, you would think after all this time—especially considering his greatly lauded reputation—that he would have at least kissed me by now. It's all hand-holding and awkward hugs …"

Hermione wasn't listening. She thought back to what had been happening in her life three weeks ago. Their last party had been three weeks before…Draco had _met _Karen that night. Her stomach wrenched painfully—he'd obviously asked to see her again that night. But then… _then _she remembered that just twelve days before, she'd spent her birthday at Flourish and Blotts, and Draco had given her the beautiful necklace. And he'd _kissed _her, and told her he liked her. She felt confused and hurt, despite knowing that Draco had done exactly what she'd told him to do.

Karen kept talking, but Hermione wasn't paying attention. She repeated, "Three_ weeks_?"

Karen stopped talking then and looked at her strangely. "Yes … is that important?"

"It's … maybe. No reason. Would you excuse me?" Hermione didn't wait for an answer before practically running out of the room. She made it into the large hallway and leaned heavily against the wall. Everything hit her at once. She really liked Draco, but he was _with __Karen_ when he'd told her he liked her. She _knew_, in her head, at least she _thought_, that Karen was really just the witch he'd chosen to be seen with by Pansy, but then again, she didn't _know_ Draco that well. Maybe he was seeing her because he couldn't have Hermione, and he liked Karen too…

It was too much; she was tired. She didn't want to be Pansy's shoulder all the time—_she _needed someone to lean on. She was tired of always putting Pansy first. She didn't regret it, she really didn't want to begrudge Pansy, and she hated that the only area of her life where she was torn was with respect to Draco. If he hadn't invited her to dinner, none of this would have happened…

She started to cry a little.

Harry came into the hallway and went to her. "Hey, I saw you leave, are you okay?"

She sniffles. "Yeah, thanks, Harry."

Then Blaise came out, looking for her. She took one look at him and the tears came in delicate rivulets. Because _he knew_. He really knew; everything about his behaviour over the last few weeks now made sense. She could cry and he would know why and she wouldn't have to say a work. He knew how Draco felt, and he had backed down from pursuing her. She wondered what exactly Draco had told him.

Hermione quickly tried to stifle her cries, but Blaise walked over to them and said, gently, "I've got this, Potter."

He wrapped his arms around Hermione and she let go, stopped holding back. Harry stood by awkwardly for a few minutes before leaving them alone, feeling very confused.

She continued to sob in his arms, noting briefly that she was probably getting his shirt wet. Blaise held her close and protectively, his hand resting on the back of her head.

"Shh, Hermione. It's okay, you know it's okay."

"I'm just … so _tired_, Blaise."

After a few minutes, Draco and Karen came out. From down the hall, he could see her wrapped in Blaise's arms, crying. He was angry at first—Blaise had gone too far. Then it hit him that Hermione was _really _upset. He stared at them, frozen. He couldn't go to her, couldn't comfort her…he couldn't do _anything_ and he felt completely helpless. And Blaise was holding her.

Blaise looked up and saw Draco, standing with Karen who was trying to pull him back into the ballroom. Blaise didn't want Hermione to know Draco was there, so he turned and led her out of the hallway, leaving Draco stare after them.

**ooo**

Draco sat by his window all that night and the next morning, waiting for an Owl from Hermione. When nothing came, he started to worry. He'd Owled Blaise about what he'd seen, but the response he received was less than unsatisfactory.

"Draco. Ask her. Blaise."

He decided to try and be patient, to wait for Hermione to come to him. It hit him Monday night that she probably wouldn't. Unless Blaise had told her—and he suspected he hadn't—she had no idea he'd seen her crying. Still, it wasn't like her not to write, at the very least about how Pansy had handled seeing him with Karen.

When no Owl came Monday night, Draco decided he wouldn't wait to find out what had been wrong with her.

Tuesday morning, after Pansy had gone to work, he knocked on Hermione's door.

Hermione answered after a few seconds.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, genuine shock registered on her face.

"Hey. Uhm, listen. Can we talk?"

Hermione's thoughts started spinning. Why was he there? What did he think he was_ doing _taking such a huge risk! Pansy could have seen him! "I'm just getting ready for work," she said, glancing at her watch. "But I've got a few minutes. One second."

She dashed back into her flat and grabbed a jumper to ward off the crisp October air. She returned and shut the door behind her. "We can go on the roof," she said, leading him quickly down the hall to the lift.

They rode it in silence to the top floor, and Hermione led him to a set of stairs that seemed to lead into the ceiling. When she'd climbed as high as she could go, she pulled out her wand and muttered, "_Alohamora."_

The door at the top of the stairs popped up enough for Hermione to push it all the way open. When they were safely on top of the roof, Hermione rounded on him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, somewhat angrily. "I can't believe you just… came here."

He frowned. "I waited until Pansy was at work. I watched her get there, and waited an hour before Apparating over here. Don't freak out on me, I'm not a complete idiot."

"No, of course not," she said, recovering some of her composure. "I was just…surprised. What are you doing here, Draco?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then tousled it. "I'd expected to hear from you."

Hermione shrugged and looked away, into the wind, letting it blow through her hair. "I wasn't ready to write you."

"Hermione, did I _do _something?"

She shook her head but still wouldn't look at him.

"Look… the other night, at the play. I saw you. Really upset. Crying."

She looked at him. Tears pricked her eyes and she quickly looked away again. She hadn't wanted him to know. "Oh, that was… nothing."

"At least don't insult me. I know that wasn't nothing. I've been going out of my mind with worry for three days—please, tell me what was wrong."

He stood, his hands in loose fists at his side, watching the back of her head. She reached one hand up and wiped her eyes and he wanted to be the one to comfort her, to tell her everything would be okay.

Hermione had been debating since the party whether or not to tell him. At that moment, she realized they'd been completely open and honest with each other since the beginning. If he'd seen her upset, truly worried about her, then maybe he could handle hearing her reason.

She took a shaky breath. "Okay, I—I'll tell you." She looked back at him, but hair blew in her face. She tried to brush it away but it was no use; the wind kept blowing it in her face. Finally she grabbed it all and used her wand to loosely secure it on her head. "I'm not even really sure why I did it, but…I was talking to Karen at the party, and I asked her how long she'd been seeing you."

Draco looked at her really hard. She hadn't expected that.

"And?" he said.

"She said… three weeks."

"Right. Pansy's party until the other night."

"I—I understand that, but… it hit me that it overlapped with the time you came to Flourish and Blotts and I was there. You know… my birthday…"

"I am aware of that."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest. "Well, it's stupid, maybe, but it hurt. Knowing that you said one thing to me, and then said who knows what to her…"

"You're completely joking, right?" Draco said, incredulously. "You cannot be serious."

"I _am_ serious," Hermione insisted.

"_You're _the one who wanted Pansy to see me with someone. I did what _you _wanted! I found a woman who'd go out with me a few times, so that eventually, you would put us in the same place as Pansy and Potter. I did what I could do to make that happen."

Hermione's lip quivered. "Yes, well, I suspected as much…"

He threw up his hands. "Okay, then, what was the problem?"

"Why didn't you tell me? That you had been seeing her?"

Draco became even more incredulous. "You told me **not** to! You said you didn't want to hear the details if I started up with someone—"

"Details, Draco. I didn't want to hear about your intimate conversations and walks in the park. But a heads-up, 'oh, by the way, I've been dating someone for _three weeks_,' would have been nice!"

He clenched and unclenched his fists. "Letter number forty-one, I remember it well. 'I don't know to know, but I do, but I don't.' I had to ask three women I work with to help me decipher your meaning, and I got three different answers. I finally decided it would be best not to tell you, since you seemed so undecided."

"I would have rather known."

"Then you should have amended number forty-one," Draco snapped.

They stared at each other a few seconds and then Draco sighed. "Was that all, then? That's the full explanation for why you were crying? Because I didn't forewarn you?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Tell me. Please." His voice was almost pleading.

She bit her lip and said, "It still _bothered_ me. Seeing you together. Even though I know I don't have the _right_ to be bothered! I can't cry, or whine, or _miss _you because there's nothing to miss! I have absolutely no claim to your affections, your attentions, yet you've given both! And then to see you with someone else…it _hurt_, Draco. I know it's not right."

"Well, I don't feel that way," Draco said dryly. "That I have no claim on you or your affections. I wanted to bash Blaise's head in—my_ friend­_, mind you_—_repeatedly. With a very blunt object."

"Draco!" she said, astonished. "You have _no _reason to think ill of Blaise!"

"Except for his deliberate attempts to get under my skin the other night, you're right!"

She clenched her fist, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. "We've made each other no promises!"

"_Not_ my choice!" he yelled.

"I don't_ have _a choice!" she yelled back.

Draco stood looking at her, breathing heavily. Then he shut his eyes and rubbed his head. He knew it was true; at least, that she truly believed it was true. He had tried to be understanding, to be patient; he didn't think he could keep it up.

"If you did?" he asked very quietly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Then nothing would keep me from being with you."

Draco sighed and walked to the edge of the roof, leaning on the railing. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding defeated.

Hermione moved to stand beside him.

"Pansy has been running my life for so long—parts of it, anyway—that I quickly lose patience. And _she _is all that is keeping us apart…"

"No, Draco," said Hermione kindly but firmly. "It's _me_. I_ could _go around with you, lie to her, see you despite her. I choose not to."

"I know," he said quickly. "You wouldn't be _you_ if you _did _sneak around with me. But…she's got herself into this mess in the first place."

"Yes, but remember, Draco. If she hadn't gotten into this mess, we wouldn't even be here, talking about why we're not together."

He looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry you thought for even a moment that I'd moved on."

"But I told you to."

"And I told you I wouldn't."

"For how long?" Hermione asked, turning away from him before he saw a tear fall. She casually wiped the tears away. "How long before you get tired of it, tired of waiting? Wouldn't it just be better to go separate ways?"

"_No_."

"What if it's years, Draco? What if it's never? You have to move on sometime."

He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. "I won't wait years, Hermione."

Despite her heart breaking just a little, she also felt relieved. At least he was willing to accept the truth—that it was possible nothing would happen between them.

"Good," she forced out.

He looked at her, his eyes bright. "If I thought I truly _had _to wait years for you…I would."

"Why?" she whispered. "Why would you wait for _me_?"

"Don't you know?" he asked quietly.

She said nothing and looked away, too afraid of what he might say.

"Hermione, you are the most incredible person I've ever met. You have a beautiful essence, a sweetness, a _good_ness that is rare. You're intelligent and witty, yet you still enjoy simple pleasures."

She still said nothing. He wanted to do…_something_ to show her how felt—hug her, or hold her…something—but all he did was shift his weight.

"I consider myself fortunate to know you, and to think of you being mine one day…I would never give that up."

"But…_years_, Draco. You won't feel the same."

"As I said, if I thought I had to wait years, I would. But I refuse to let Pansy control my life that way."

Hermione bit her lip. "Let's wait three months."

"Three months," he repeated after a moment. "Then what?"

"We'll…see. Pansy is doing so well…but I just can't ask her about this, tell her about this, right now."

Draco nodded. "Three months. What exactly are you waiting for? Her to come to you and say, 'Hermione I want you to be with Draco?'"

"No. I want her to have more time to get used to you before having to deal with the idea of _us_."

"I think you underestimate her in this, Hermione. I've known her a lot longer than you, and I believe she could handle it."

Hermione considered his words briefly. "Be that as it may, I still want to wait three months."

"That's so arbitrary!" he protested.

"Fine, then at least until I have seen signs that would lead me to agree with you."

Draco was quiet for a few minutes. Then he sighed resignedly. "Three months."

"Yes."

"Okay. Three months."

"Thank you."

He looked at her and moved to stand very close to her. "You have my word that I won't see anyone in that time. That the thought would never even cross my mind. I don't want you upset the way you were the other night. I don't want you worrying."

She nodded. "I try not to think about you."

Draco frowned. "I do nothing _but _think of you."

Hermione smiled. "As you are free to. If _I _dwell on what could be…I'm afraid I'll end up resenting Pansy or regretting what I've done for her. Continuing to spend my time with her. I don't want that."

"I know. Just know that you're always on my mind."

"I should go. I'm pretty sure I'm late to work already."

Draco took a step back. "I'll…see you in three months, then."

"Goodbye, Draco," she said and quickly hurried off the roof.

**ooo**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! And thank you for your patience!  
**


	10. Patience is a Virtue

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Harry Potter … he belongs to You Know Who.

**Note:** Enormous thanks to my beta, kazfeist, especially for the encouragement through these last few chapters!

**ooo**

**Chapter Ten**

Draco did his best to wait, as Hermione had requested. He really did.

The week after he'd talked with Hermione on the roof, Pansy had Owled and invited him to come over for game night. He'd accepted, somewhat reluctantly, but knew Hermione would want him to make an effort to be around Pansy. So he went.

He'd spent the entire evening paired with Hermione for a game played in teams, trying his best to be awkward and to _not _incidentally touch her, while at the same time trying to appear natural and carefree. In addition, he wanted as much incidental contact as he could possibly get away with.

He'd hurried away before everyone else, anxious to be away from the tension that only he and Hermione felt.

After game night, he lasted another ten days.

First thing Monday morning, in the last full week of October, Draco made his way to Diagon Alley and then to the candy shoppe where Pansy worked.

When he arrived at the door, he hesitated, running the alternatives through his mind one last time. The thought that, if everything went absolutely perfectly, he could see Hermione that night steeled him and spurred him on. A small bell chimed when he pushed open the door.

No one was in the room, but in moments, Pansy appeared through a door Draco assumed led to the back room and the kitchen.

"Draco!" she said, surprised to see him. "Is…everything okay?"

"Hey," he said, feeling his insides twist with nerves. "Everything is fine."

Pansy smiled. "Then how may I help you? Would you care for a piece of our best chocolate this morning?"

"No, thank you though. I—I need to talk to you."

"Oh," she said, her smile faltering at the serious look on his face. "Let me see if I can take a break."

She disappeared into the back and Draco looked around the shoppe in an attempt to ease his nerves.

"Okay, I can take fifteen minutes. Is that enough?" she asked after she'd re-emerged.

He nodded and Pansy took off her apron.

"Let's go somewhere…quiet," said Draco, opening the door.

"Um, okay, there's a café down the street that's pretty quiet at this hour."

"Good."

They walked in silence, Draco trying to decide exactly whathe would say and howhe would accomplish his aim. Pansy felt increasingly anxious as they walked.

When they'd been seated at a back table, Pansy finally broke the silence. "Draco, what's going on? You're kind of scaring me."

"I know, I'm sorry."

After he didn't speak further, Pansy said, "So… you wanted to talk to me, remember?"

"Yes. Just—I'm trying to think how best to say what I have to say."

She gave him a small smile. "Just…say it, Draco."

He nodded and looked at her unwaveringly. "I'm in love with someone."

Pansy blinked and stared at him. Her heart started pounding and her first reaction was to panic. She started to speak, but Draco kept looking directly into her eyes. His steady gaze helped her to calm down; they weren't Harry's eyes, full of love reserved for her

She nodded slowly. "Okay. That…I…okay." After a moment she smiled. "I'm okay."

Draco swallowed hard.

"There's more?"

"Yeah. She…she's a friend of yours."

Pansy's smile thinned slightly. "Hermione warned me that might happen. Is it Karen?"

"What? Oh, no," he replied. "Look, Pansy. This is going to come as quite a shock, but there's nothing for it. I'm in love with her and I want to be with her."

"What's stopping you?" she asked, feeling only the dull echo of a distant pain.

"All I ask is that you hear me out and consider what I'm telling you."

Pansy nodded. "Of course."

"It's Hermione."

Pansy blinked and felt her stomach hitch into her throat. She waited for him to smile, to laugh, to—to make some indication he'd misspoke. Or perhaps, she'd misheard.

"What?"

"Pansy…"

"Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"Hermione."

He nodded again.

Pansy could barely think for the rushing sound in her ears. It just didn't make sense! "How can it _possibly _be her? When did this happen, I don't understand!"

"This is where you're going to have to let me explain."

"Wait…she's been seeingyou?"

"No, Pansy. Not at all."

"Yet you're in love with her," she said, folding her arms.

"Just – let me speak. I'll do my best to answer your questions."

She huffed and raised an eyebrow. "Fine."

"I'm sure you remember the night I came to her flat, nearly seven months ago, after you'd written me."

Pansy nodded.

"She and I spoke in the hallway. At the end of our conversation, I asked her to write to me, regularly, to keep me informed about your progress, and how you were doing. She eventually agreed, with the stipulation that I wasn't allowed to write her back except in extreme emergency. And even then, I had to communicate using the method of the Order during the war."

Pansy nodded again. "She's been writing to you."

"Yes. At first, she did just as I'd asked—wrote about you. She told me, in great detail, how you were. Her letters came at least once a week, sometimes twice, if something especially good or bad happened. About a month later, something good happened for her unrelated to you, and she included it in her letter for the week. After that, she started writing about herself more and more, telling me what was going on in her life, as well as yours.

"But it wasn't just that—she'd tell me her thoughts and opinions on topics that were usually hotly debated. She'd ask me difficult questions that really made me think, and she'd give her answers. In short, I really got to know her through her letters. And it wasn't long before I developed feelings for her."

"From her letters."

"Yeah."

"_Interesting_," said Pansy. "Though I have a feeling there's more to this story."

"Yes. You two had that party—the first one you threw. I sent her a message the next morning asking her to meet me down the street at a café. She came, thinking that despite my assurance in the message, something was wrong. I…asked her to dinner."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Dinner."

"Yes. As a friend, as a way for me to say thank you for everything she'd done for you, and would continue to do for you."

"But you liked her."

"I did."

"Did she like you?"

"I'm sure she didn't. After all, I hadn't seen her since that night at her flat, and I hadn't communicated with her in any way. I truly don't think it possible she had feelings for me."

"But she said yes."

"After considerable convincing on my part, yes. She agreed."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "That was the date she went on, right?"

"Yes."

"Why did she call it a date, then?"

"So you wouldn't suspect it was me she was meeting."

"Ooh, bet that hurt," said Pansy maliciously.

He chuckled. "Well, I understood."

"And at dinner?"

"My feelings were confirmed, solidified, and after that night they only grew. She continued writing me, though for a while, she was somewhat withdrawn, returning to writing only about you."

"And…you're in love with her."

Draco sighed. "Yes, Pansy."

"Do continue, Draco. I'm on the edge of my seat."

He refrained from snapping at her, but only just barely. "The next time I saw her was at the ball put on by the Ministry. I spoke to her and asked her to please resume writing to me the way she had before we had dinner. She agreed. Then I asked her to dance."

"I remember you dancing with her. It upset me quite a bit, as I recall. Not just the dancing, but the way you two were so…easy together. You moved so fluidly and occasionally, you would look at her in a way that didn't make sense to me. Considering that you two didn't even like each other."

"Yes, well. Obviously, I liked her."

"Did she know about your feelings?"

Draco chuckled. "I think it's safe to say she did. Though I hadn't verbalized them."

"You asked her to dance?"

"Yes. As a thank-you dance." As he said it, Draco realized how ridiculous it really sounded.

Pansy agreed. "Thank-you dance, thank-you dinner—what's next, a thank-you shag?"

"Pansy!" he cried.

"What do you expect, Draco? I was very upset with her for dancing with you because I saw, and something inside me knew, deep down, that something was going on. And then I forgave her soeasily because…she said she'd never do anything like that to me."

"Pansy, she didn't. I swear to you. She's completely blameless here."

"She lied! She said she was going on a date, and she went to dinner with you."

"Yes, fine, she lied the one time."

"If she'd simply said—"

"What? What could she have said? 'I'm having dinner with someone, I can't tell you who'? What would you have thought of that?"

"I understand, Draco, that she did what she thought she had to do."

"And if she'd said, 'I'm going to dinner with Draco', you would have…"

"Freaked out, yes. But…it would have been honest."

"And she never would have come. I can't tell you exactly why she did it, I don't know. But you were ever foremost in her thoughts. So yes, she lied to you then."

"She didn't tell me she was writing to you."

"She didn't have to. I'm sure your counsellor would have agreed on that point. I had asked her to do it, as a favour to me. She had no idea what would happen as a result."

"That you would fall for her."

"Exactly."

"Continue, please," Pansy said angrily.

"After the ball, I saw her at the second party you two threw at her flat. I barely spoke three words to her."

Pansy smirked. "She was quite chummy with Blaise, as I recall."

"Was she? I didn't notice," he said, annoyed.

"You know I can tell when you lie, Draco."

He ignored her comment and continued. "After the party, I saw her on her birthday."

"Excuse me?" Pansy said, now indignant. She thought back—Hermione had gone to Flourish and Blotts that night. A stack of books had surrounded her when Pansy had returned home.

"She'd written to me about the book sale a month before, saying she hoped to find a specific book that night. So, knowing she would be there, I went. She had no idea, Pansy, I swear it. She was very surprised to see me."

"You don't think she told you about the sale so you'd go see her?"

"No, I don't. She stayed at the shop for an hour and we talked. With a whole crowd of people all around us. And she stayed an hour. An hour."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "And you're in love with her."

"Yes."

"From her letters, essentially, is what this boils down to."

"Yes, to put it simplistically."

"They must have been some letters."

"They were. She didn't just give me a run-down of what she did every day. She showed me her soul, her fire,in those letters. She opened up to me as though I were a close friend, and not the guy who'd been mean to her in school. Not the guy who'd turned to the Light and sulked in the corner while everyone else planned the next move. I—I can't tell you how much reading those letters was like looking into her very being. She took my breath away with each one."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Pansy whispered, tears pricking her eyes.

He paused before answering. "There is no way on earth she would consider seeing me without your okay."

"Funny, she's already seen you."

Draco sighed. "I understand your natural inclination is to blame her, to think badly of her. But she's completely innocent in this whole thing."

"Have you two kissed?" Pansy asked.

"No, we haven't. Though not for lack of wanting, mind you. But because she refused."

"She wouldn't let you kiss her?" Pansy said, amused that Draco had been told no for once in his life.

"No."

"That means, however, that you asked to kiss her."

"Yes, more or less."

Pansy bit her lip. "Does she love you?"

"I…highly doubt it. From her side, we've had dinner, a dance, and a few conversations. I've had months of her letters. All I'm asking is…I just…I want you to say it's okay with you for us to see each other. I know you've been through a whole lot. You've passed every single one of her hurdles, with flying colours, and you're with Potter. I don't really care if you're okay with it or not. I don't say that to be hurtful, but it's true. I'm crazy about her and I want a chance with her. But she would never say yes to me until she knows it's okay with you, that you'll be alright with it."

Pansy fidgeted with her napkin, but said nothing.

"Just please, promise me you'll think about it. That you'll really think about it, and that you'll be fair when you do."

"Does she want to go out with you? Does she want me to say it's okay?"

"She said she would be with me if there were nothing standing in the way. She also told me to wait three months, and if nothing had changed, she'd make a decision."

"Three months? When did she tell you that? Has that time passed?" Pansy asked.

"Not exactly, no. It's been twenty days. I couldn't bear the thought of being around her like I was the other night for games for another two and a half months. It was…difficult."

"You waited twenty days. Of the three months she asked for."

"Yes. There was one other time I saw her that you don't already know about. I'm not sure if you noticed, but the night we all went to the theatre, she became very upset. It was during the after party. I saw her in the hallway, sobbing." He clenched his jaw. "Blaise was there for her, and—besides nearly killing me—I had to know what it was about, I couldn't just… not know. So I went to her flat the following Tuesday, after you'd gone for work. She wouldn't even let me inside in the door. We went up on the roof and talked.

"Please. If you want to be upset, be upset with me. I'm the one who fell for her. I—I just want the chance to be with her. But I need you to say it's okay. Because she'll never even consider it without your approval. Three months…twenty days…a year. My feelings aren't going to change."

"Because you're in love with her," Pansy said bitterly.

"Are you in love with Potter?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

"Then you know what it's like."

Pansy sighed. "I know what it's like to feel as though someone completely understands me, and to have someone with whom I can share everything, not just my thoughts and opinions, but my ideas and hopes and everyday experiences…" She looked at Draco. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"You can't let her know you've talked to me."

"Why not?"

"I told her I would give her three months, remember? I, however, think you're ready for this."

"What can I do to convince you she isn't at fault?"

"I don't know…she said yes to dinner, yes to a dance, yes to spending an hour with you in the bookshop…sounds as though she played her own part."

"It was an hour, Pansy. In seven months! The total amount of time I've been alone with her in these seven months is…" He chuckled. "Probably around seven hours. At the most. That's not a very long time."

"And yet, you've managed to fall in love with her."

"Pansy…she has done everything for you. She would probably go the rest of her life not seeing me, not talking to me…she'd forget I ever existed if she thought it would be good for you."

"I said I'd think about it," Pansy replied tersely.

"Thank you."

"I have to go back to work."

"Pansy, don't be angry."

"I'm going back, Draco. Excuse me."

Pansy left in a huff, shoving her chair under the table so hard it hit Draco's knee. He winced but said nothing and Pansy was gone before the pain subsided.

He sighed and mussed his hair. It could have been much worse. Pansy didn't scream, yell, or threaten to hex him. Those were the good points. On the negative side, Pansy had assumed the worst of Hermione—and he didn't think she believed him when he told her she hadn't done anything wrong—and she hadn't given him an answer to his query.

Now all that he could do was wait.

**ooo**

Pansy went back to the shop unsure what she should feel. On one hand, it felt really, really good to know that she didn't fall to pieces when Draco had told her he was in love with someone. On the other hand, that someonehad turned out to be Hermione.

Pansy didn't know what to think about her "friend." It was very hard for her to imagine Hermione sneaking around behind her back, meeting up with Draco, especially when Hermione knew all of the history between them. But then…was it possible for Draco to have truly fallen in lovewith her the way he'd described?

She had plans with Harry that Friday and was so busy with work that she barely spoke to Hermione leading up to her date. Hermione asked about the date, but Pansy told her there was nothing special about it.

Pansy watched Hermione all week for signs of what Draco had told her. Would it be obvious? Would Draco's presence in Hermione's life be apparent, now that Pansy knew there was something to look for?

All she could discern was that Hermione seemed happy at odd times—though after asking Harry, she learned that was nothing new. Hermione would also get sad for no obvious reason, and Pansy wondered if it was because of Draco, if she wanted to be with him but couldn't.

Hermione was on the sofa when Pansy emerged from her room, ready to go out with Harry.

She smiled. "Have fun, Pansy!"

"Thanks," she mumbled, digging through her purse. Then she looked up suddenly. "What are your plans for this evening?"

"Oh, reading, as usual," replied Hermione pleasantly. "Probably order take-away—I've been wanting to try that new place a few streets over. Might cap the evening with a movie. What are you and Harry doing?"

"I'm not sure, actually. He's got something planned."

Hermione grinned. "Hmm. Well, should be nice, if Harry's gone to the effort to plan an entire evening."

"Yeah…" said Pansy distractedly, thinking she caught a knowing twinkle in Hermione's eye.

The bell rang then, and Harry walked in. He greeted Hermione excitedly, and hurried Pansy out the door.

**ooo**

Pansy was distracted all through dinner. She had avoided thinking about Draco's request all week, hoping to learn something from Hermione's behaviour. Now, she couldn't pay attention to what Harry was saying because she could think of nothing _but_ Draco's request.

"I was thinking three months in Siberia." Harry chuckled to himself when Pansy merely nodded, her eyes vacant. "Pansy?"

"Hmm? What?"

"What do you say?"

"Sounds great," she said, her best, most encouraging smile on her face.

"Really?"

Pansy's smile faltered. "What did I just agree to?"

"Three months in the frozen tundras of Russia."

"Oh … I'm sorry."

"Where are you tonight?"

Pansy sighed. "Did you … have you … what do you think of Draco?"

Harry's features darkened slightly. "What do you mean?"

Pansy shook her head. "No, no, not me. I mean … have you seen anything? Anything suspicious …?" She trailed off, realizing how silly she sounded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Draco. And … Hermione."

Harry frowned, thinking back. He remembered the two dancing at the ball a few months earlier, and they spoke briefly at Pansy's party … "I don't recall anything of interest."

"He's in love with her."

Harry's jaw dropped and he remained on the edge of disbelief while Pansy told him about Draco coming to her.

"Has Hermione said anything?"

"Pansy, I haven't heard a wordabout this. I—I can't believe it! He said he was in lovewith her? How is that possible?"

"I just toldyou what he said," Pansy replied. "Though her letters. Do you believe him? Is something like that possible?"

Harry considered everything he'd learned in the space of a very few minutes. "I…Hermione _is _a special woman, and she _does _tend to go on a bit when she writes…and, much as I hate to say it aloud, Malfoy is a smart bloke…" He looked at Pansy and shrugged. "I guess I believe him."

"Does Hermione love him?" Harry asked after a moment.

"He said he didn't think so, that he couldn't see how she would, given their sparse and brief interaction over the last seven months."

"Huh. I…wow."

They sat quietly. Harry tried to absorb everything and Pansy considered the new information. Harry didn't know, which meant that Hermione had likely not told anyone about her letters to Draco. Matilda Maphet knew, however; she had encouraged Hermione to keep Draco informed.

"What do you think of the news?" Harry asked quietly.

"It's very surprising, to say the least," Pansy replied. "I'm … not as bothered as I would have thought I'd be. My initial reaction was to blow up, get angry, and upset, but that hasn't happened."

Harry nodded and took a sip of wine. "I think Malfoy's a decent bloke, as I said. He seemed genuinely engaged when I saw him at the party, and he obviously cares a lot about you. I imagine he would treat Hermione just as well, which is a must in my mind."

"Yeah …" Pansy said, distracted again. "So should I say yes? That I'm okay with them being together? What if it's too hard, what if she talks about him a lot, or tells me … more than I want to know?"

"It's Hermione. I'm sure she'll be sensitive and not flaunt her relationship in your face. Just remember that everything she's done has been for you. She's been there for you, she always has been, and she always will be."

"I'm worried I won't be able to handle it. Although, Draco said he thinks I can."

"See? I agree with him—he must be smart!" Harry grinned.

Pansy could only manage a weak smile. She stopped pushing her food around on her plate and placed her napkin on the table. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm exhausted. Work this week has been … outrageous. Would you mind if we ended our evening early?"

"No, not at all," Harry replied crisply, and called for the check.

As they waited in silence for the bill, Pansy got the impression that Harry had been upset by her request to go home. It occurred to her then that he had planned an evening for them that probably extended beyond dinner. She wondered what he would have to cancel or reschedule and was about to rescind her request when the waiter returned with Harry's change.

Harry thanked him, and ushered Pansy from the restaurant with barely a word spoken. He dropped Pansy off and kissed her chastely, adding to Pansy's concern over the way the evening was ending. She asked Harry what was wrong and he dismissed her question without a thought, then gave a curt nod and left.

Pansy dazedly entered the flat in the middle of the movie Hermione had put on and Pansy chuckled. Hermione was exactly where she said she'd be, on the sofa, wrapped in blankets, books and junk food spread around her.

She looked up when Pansy entered the room and smiled. "Hey, how was your evening?"

"Fine," said Pansy listlessly. "It was fine."

"Just fine? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired."

"Okay."

"I'm just going to go to bed."

"Okay," said Hermione, surprised. "Night, then."

**ooo**

The next few days continued as they had. Pansy still watched Hermione, thinking that after her conversation with Harry, something would stand out, or perhaps Harry would talk to Hermione and she would give some sign …

In addition, Harry was acting distant, and nothing Pansy did would get him to open up about why. He admitted to his actions, but refused to elaborate. With her frustration building, Pansy did the only thing she could think to do: invited Harry, Ron, Suzette and Draco over for games.

Ron and Suzette arrived first, smiling and greeting Pansy and Hermione warmly. Harry arrived next, welcoming Pansy with a warm yet somewhat aloof hug. Pansy was shocked, but didn't have time to ask him about it because Draco knocked on the door. She rushed to answer it.

"Pansy," he said, ice in his tone, when she opened the door.

"Draco," she replied, shutting the door behind him. "Thank you for coming."

All he could do was give her a look that said he didn't want to be there.

"Did you expect an answer already?" Pansy whispered.

"After a week?" he said sarcastically, carelessly tossing his jacket at her. "What could I have been thinking?" Without waiting for a response, he left the foyer and joined the others in the living room.

The entire evening was disastrous, at least to Pansy.

She and Harry only talked because they weren't officially not talking, and because no one else knew they weren't talking, and they couldn't discuss the reason for their unofficial silence. It was stilted conversation, awkward; Pansy hoped no one noticed.

Draco felt completely out of sorts. He was cross with Pansy for her lack of response to his request, and he couldn't talk to Hermione. He noticed that Harry and Pansy weren't their usually easy selves, and reckoned that Pansy had told Harry. That served only to annoy him further.

Harry was constantly watching the interaction between Pansy and Draco, looking for any signs—of what, he didn't know. Most interesting to him, however, was the way Draco interacted with Hermione. He would never have guessed that Malfoy could be in love with her. Though they worked well together on their team, he seemed to barely notice her.

Only Ron, Suzette, and Hermione were completely at ease. The fact that Hermione was so seemingly happy and light greatly confused Pansy. Draco had acted as though his world would end if he weren't given the go ahead to be with Hermione, but it seemed as though she had no reservations about being so near him. As though it didn't matter one way or the other.

Harry wasn't sure he appreciated the way Malfoy was acting toward Hermione. If he truly loved her, it should be visible, even though he was trying to hide it. Then, near the end of the game—and he would have missed it if he hadn't been watching them so keenly—Hermione whispered something to Draco about their turn. He chuckled, nodded, and then his gaze flicked to her mouth for an instant before turning back to the others.

Harry's jaw dropped but he quickly recovered. It had been small, miniscule, barely there, but nevertheless, there.

Ron and Suzette won. Then Pansy retrieved a cake she'd made for the evening from the kitchen and handed around drinks.

Conversation was slow—Ron and Hermione talked most. Finally, Draco left, claiming he had to work early the next morning.

Pansy saw him to the door and Harry quickly got up and followed them.

Hermione looked at Ron, eyes wide, and said, "What was that?"

"I know!" he said, grinning. "The tension…I thought I might drownin it! Any ideas?"

"None!" said Hermione, a trickle of worry starting to manifest in her mind.

"Well, I'm glad that's over. I say we leave Malfoy out from now on."

Hermione smiled. "That's up to Pansy, you know that."

"What's up to me?" said Pansy, returning with Harry.

"If we can kick Malfoy out of our game nights," said Ron. "Blaise was much more fun, really. Malfoy just…I don't know, he's all right, I guess, but he can be a little cloud of doom and gloom, too."

"He had other things on his mind," said Pansy defensively.

Harry put his arm around Pansy. "I have to get going," he said to her. "But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Pansy nodded and they again went to the door.

Suzette quirked an eyebrow. "Something happened there, no?"

"Looks like it," said Hermione. She shrugged. "As long as they've worked it out, I'm not worried."

**ooo**

"I take it you still haven't worked things out with Malfoy and Hermione," said Harry, stretching out on the blanket he'd spread over the grass, tucking an arm under his head.

"No, I haven't," Pansy replied with a sigh. She was sitting near Harry's head.

"Do you still plan on telling her yes?"

"Yes…"

"What's keeping you? Malfoy seemed awfully upset with you last night."

"So did you!" Pansy exclaimed. "What's going on, Harry? Today you're acting as if nothing … odd had happened the other night at dinner, while I've been feeling just horrible ever since! I'm sorry I ended early, I was just—"

"Thinking about Malfoy."

"No!" she said firmly. "I was still so uncertain about Hermione and him."

"Do you accept that he's in love with her? I saw it, you know."

Pansy glanced at him, her eyes curious.

"Barely; I really had to watch. But I did."

"Yes. I accept that he's in love with her."

"You do? Really?"

She pulled a blade of grass out of the ground and started tying it in a knot. "Last night…he was so…upset with me. It was awful. The most confusing part was that Hermione seemed completely oblivious! As though she doesn't even know how he feels about her."

"Maybe she doesn't. Don't you think she deserves to know?"

Pansy sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Are you going to give your official clearance?"

"Yes…I am. I spent the morning by myself, thinking. I could still come up with a dozen reasons to tell Draco no, but none of them were any good, really. Even after going through each one and dismissing them all…I still just had to let go. And I did. He deserves to be happy, and it seems as though he and Hermione have got it in their heads that I hold a piece of that."

"You sound pretty sure," said Harry.

Pansy smiled at him and leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips. When they parted, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I am where I want to be."

Harry sat up. "You're going to let Hermione see him. Go out with him. Kiss him. Fall in love with him."

"Yes," she said.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

Pansy nodded.

"Then…there's something I want to ask you."

**ooo**

**A/N:** Thanks so much for reading! Just one chapter left!


	11. Bridges

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and his world belong to JK Rowling. I write to learn. No money is being made.

**Note**: Many, many thanks to kazfeist for the incredible beta job! Thanks for sticking with me through this whole story! Also, I apologize for all the weird smooshed words. I have no idea why that happens, it looks fine on the preview, but then something goes wrong. If you see them, please let me know so I can try to fix them.

**Chapter Eleven – Bridges**

_Dear Draco,_

_  
I couldn't help but notice that things were a bit…__**off**__ the other night. I hope things are okay with you and Pansy, or at least that you are able to work it out. I assure you I know nothing at all of what's going on, so I cannot provide you my usually colourful commentary and opinions!_

_I can only say I hope you work it out. Peacefully. Without magic, or threats, or throwing things. And yes, she told me about your mother's prized vase!_

_I think I was overly positive the other night. Between you, Pansy and Harry—who had spent the last five days not talking to each other—I thought the room would explode from the pressure. I tried to help ease the tension, at least for Ron and Suzette. I don't think my good mood was able to penetrate even __**your **__cloud of gloom (Ron's words, not mine)._

_To say the least, I was relieved when the game ended._

_It also became obvious to me that you and Pansy have seen each other, at least once, outside my influence. Which is completely fine with me. It seems as though she is able to interact with you and maintain her relationship with Harry. They're out at this moment, actually. I'm quite excited to see her when she returns! I have it on good authority that she'll be very happy._

_That being said, I must conclude—and Matilda agrees—that Pansy is now fully recovered. She no longer needs me, or anyone; she's her own woman, and I think she's a wonderful person. She's over you, and her relationship with Harry is a healthy one. As you know, he and I talk regularly, and he's kept me up to date with certain aspects of their relationship. As you know, I relay any pertinent information to Matilda when I see her. It is her opinion that the relationship is healthy. I __**know **__Harry wouldn't put up with anything less._

_Harry really, really loves her, and I'm beyond thrilled to see him doing so well. Since meeting Pansy…it's like having my best friend back._

_Surprise – I got off track!_

_Pansy is fine. So…I don't need to continue writing you. I loathe the idea of ending my only link to you, but any further communication wouldn't be justifiable. I know you will do your best to understand and I appreciate the effort. _

_I have now tried four times to end this letter, but it's too hard! I'll see you in a little over two months._

_Always,_

_Hermione_

Hermione was reading the paper Sunday morning with a cup of tea. Draco had probably already read her letter and gotten angry because of it, and she hadn't seen Pansy's return after her date with Harry. She decided she'd talk to her that morning.

"Hermione," said Pansy as she entered the kitchen.

"Yes?" she replied, grinning and setting the paper on the table.

"Would you…go on a walk with me?"

"Oh! Um, sure," she replied. "Sounds nice."

"Okay. I grabbed your jumper," said Pansy, tossing it to her.

Hermione laughed as she caught it. "I'm still in my jammies!"

"Oh…"

"I'll change."

Five minutes later they were strolling through London, taking advantage of the cool, sunny November morning. As they walked, Hermione was struck by two things. Pansy had something specific she wanted to talk about. As they walked, she made small talk, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She also had somewhere specific she wanted to go. She walked quickly and deliberately, but Hermione didn't know the path.

After half an hour, they ended up at Briafriars Bridge.

"Oh!" breathed Hermione when she recognized where they were.

Pansy walked straight to the middle of the bridge; Hermione followed.

"Yesterday I took a long walk before my date with Harry," Pansy started, leaning against the railing. "I thought about a lot of things, but mostly about Draco." She stopped and bit her lip.

Hermione chanced a sideways glance at Pansy, wondering where this conversation might lead.

"I realized," Pansy said finally, "--you've been telling me this from the very beginning—that he's going to fall in love, and get married, and be insanely happy. That's Draco—he's…once he's found who he wants, he's never letting her go. He'll be so completely in love that nothing else will matter. He will do anything for her.

"And it hit me. I want to be in his life—and it'll be an incredible life—_not _his life. I want to be his friend, not his lover. I'm okay with him loving someone else. Really; I'm sure you're finding this hard to believe. But it's been on my mind a lot lately. I truly want him to be happy.

"If I want to be in his life, I realized I would have to be okay with his choice. Whomever he decides is the woman for him, _I _have to be okay with her if I want to stay part of his life."

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling a sense of dread growing inside her.

"You're probably wondering what I'm talking about."

"A bit, yes," said Hermione.

"I _do_ have a point, and I'll get there. But first…Draco came to see me at work the Tuesday before last."

"Oh!" said Hermione, grinning. "Am I going to find out what was going on between you, Draco, and Harry?"

"You noticed?"

"_Ron _noticed, Pansy."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, he said he wanted to talk to me. We went to a cafe and…" Pansy took a deep breath. "He told me he's in love with you."

Hermione's heart, which had been pounding harder and harder as Pansy spoke, clenched. Her stomach twisted, her insides started doing somersaults, and all she could hear was a rushing sound. All she could think was that she must have misheard.

"What?" she managed to say.

"He's in love with you."

Hermione was breathing hard, trying her best to think. It was no use. "Why did he say that?"

"He told me everything, really. How you've been writing to him, about the three times you saw each other outside of what you'd planned for me. How _he _approached you about the dinner; _he _went to Flourish and Blotts on your birthday; _he _came to your flat after you were upset at the theatre…he insisted that you were essentially blameless."

Hermione could only nod and stare, her eyes unfocused, at the water flowing steadily beneath her.

"I found it impossible to think he could fall in love with you without your active participation, but he assured me that your letters had undone him, basically. He then proceeded to convince me, quite thoroughly, that he was very much and truly in love with you.

"Despite his insistence that you weren't sneaking around with him, and my gut feeling that he was telling the truth, I couldn't accept it right away. That Friday night, when I was supposed to go out with Harry…"

Hermione looked at Pansy finally; she was smiling sheepishly.

"I spent three hours sitting in the hallway outside your flat, with an Extendable Ear, waiting for Draco to show up, or you to leave to meet him."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

Pansy shook her head sadly. "I'm not. I—I thought, if he came, I'd confront you. If he didn't come, I…I didn't know what I thought would happen then. And obviously, he didn't come. I'm not sure why, but I finally believed everything he'd said. But Harry and I got into a fight because I stayed instead of going out with him that night.

"Game night was just…I wanted to see Draco around you again, after what he'd told me." She chuckled. "He was so _incredibly _not happy with me because I still hadn't responded to what he'd said."

Hermione's body was slowly returning to normal functioning the longer Pansy talked. The fact that Pansy knew the truth was finally settling itself in her mind. And…he _loved _her?

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"He told me that you wouldn't be with him because of me. Because you didn't think I was ready to handle him being with you, my friend, the person who had helped me get over him, the person who had told me all the reasons I should get over him."

Hermione nodded.

"You're not saying much," said Pansy.

"I…I don't know what _to _say!"

"Good, because I need to keep talking. Here's the thing. I've gone through it a thousand times in my head. In the end, it comes down to this: he loves you. He wants to be with you. So," Pansy started, turning to face Hermione. "How do you feel about him?"

Hermione looked at Pansy and took a deep breath. "I like him." Pause. "A lot."

"Do you love him?"

"I…" Hermione didn't want to say no, but neither did she want to say yes. "No, but…I'm so very close to it. I've forced myself to keep my distance from him emotionally. Because I didn't know if I'd ever get to explore what I felt for him."

"Do you want to be with him?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said earnestly. "Very much! I want to see where this might go—though it might turn out to be nothing."

Pansy frowned. "I can't just give my permission for something that might turn out to be nothing."

"Your permission?"

"He said you'd never be with him unless I said it was okay with me. And he asked me to think about it and to be okay with you and him."

"I see. I…I like him very much, Pansy. I could love him. I just want the chance to find out."

"Would you marry him?"

Hermione smiled. "I certainly wouldn't be opposed to the idea of marrying him one day."

Pansy nodded. "Now we've come back to my point from before. I told you I realized I had to accept his choice, if I wanted to remain in his life. His choice is you. After I worked through everything in my mind, I realized he wasn't backing down. He wants you; Draco usually gets what he wants. And he's made too many concessions for me already—he wouldn't take no for an answer. But he still asked."

"He really cares about you, Pansy."

She sighed. "I know that. I want him to be happy. And…he wants _you_."

Tears pricked Hermione's eyes and her heart beat strongly in her chest. She looked at Pansy.

"So…make him happy. Okay?"

Hermione nodded and a tear fell. "Oh, Pansy! Thank you!" she cried, hugging the other woman. Pansy hugged her back.

When they separated Pansy said, "Speaking of happy…Harry asked me to marry him last night!"

Hermione's grin somehow widened and she squealed and hugged Pansy again. "Congratulations! I knew it was coming, actually."

"Really?" Pansy asked.

"Yeah. He talked to me about it. Oh…I'm so happy for you! And for Harry! I—wow! What a day!"

"You don't think it's too soon?" Pansy asked, a worried look on her face.

"Not really," Hermione said. "You and he may not have been dating long, but I can assure you, Harry is quite ready. He insisted he's never felt this way before, and that he didn't want to 'wait and see.' He didn't want to waste time or risk losing you."

Pansy shook her head. "I can't believe it's only been eight months since I came here, depressed, thinking I wanted to jump."

Hermione squeezed Pansy's hand.

"To think what I might have missed," she continued. "Harry…you. Ron, Suzette…being friends with Draco, even. You're so good at this, Hermione. If it hadn't been for you … I think you missed your calling. You should be a Healer like Matilda."

Hermione's stomach clenched and she focused her eyes on a booth selling flowers at the end of the bridge, much like the one where she had purchased a bouquet for her office the day she found Pansy. She had never told anyone her story; Harry and Ron only knew fragments because they had been there. They saw her get caught up in her work—as usual—and then saw her fall to pieces. They'd been there for her, and knew a few details, but they hadn't pried, for which Hermione had been grateful.

Now, though, after successfully helping Pansy go from wanting to jump off a bridge to fully functional, it hit her that the problem had never been _her_. She had done her job to the best of her ability and she felt finally ready to share.

"I was going to be, you know. I worked under Matilda for nearly a year."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Really? But … what happened? You're so good at it!"

"Thank you," Hermione responded, running her fingers along the concrete railing. "It's … a long story, but I'll try to make it tolerable. About two months into my rotation with Matilda, we got a patient who had failed in her attempt to kill herself."

"Oh," Pansy breathed.

"Lillian. I'll never forget her. I did what I was supposed to do. I gained her confidence, and I helped her open up about what was bothering her. Only …" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I let her in too much. I thought we could be friends, that she needed someone that way. I gave her so much of myself, shared so much …"

"What happened?" said Pansy softly after a minute had passed.

"She completed the program and was released. I kept in touch with her, did things with her … but after three weeks out, she stopped returning my Floo calls, answering letters, and was generally unreachable. I spoke with her once after she missed a third follow-up appointment with Matilda. She said she was doing all right, but she didn't look too good, and it was obvious she wanted to get away from me. After another two weeks … she finally succeeded in what she'd attempted just before we met."

Pansy gasped. "She … you mean, she …"

"Killed herself."

Hermione listened to the cars rushing by behind her, to people honking in impatience. She's never said those words aloud and she felt slightly sick to her stomach, but also felt tremendous relief at finally allowing those words to cross her lips.

"That's awful," Pansy whispered.

"You can understand why I was so hesitant with you, why I didn't open up to you the way I wanted to. I was scared that if something happened to you, I would be burned again."

Pansy wrapped her arms around Hermione.

"After Lillian died," Hermione continued, blinking the tears away. "I fell apart. I dropped the program, shut myself off from friends and family, and sank in on myself. It took months before I felt like doing anything. Harry and Ron were so wonderful, and my parents were there for me every day. They all thought I might get depressed too, but I didn't go that far. I think I simply tried to withdraw from the pain, and there was pain in everything I did and saw."

"I don't know what to say," Pansy said after another few moments of silence.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to understand me, to know where I was coming from. I was scared that I would do something that would send you over the edge."

"Is that why you didn't talk to me about Draco?"

"Yes. And I didn't want to add that new element into my relationship with you. I wanted to focus on you and your improvement."

Pansy was thoughtful. "Well, now that I know, I hope we can do things together. You and Draco, with Harry and me…. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Hermione chuckled. "It would certainly be…interesting. I'm sure eventually we'd get through the awkwardness of it."

"It doesn't have to be awkward!"

"You were in love with Draco, now you're marrying Harry. I stopped you from jumping off a bridge and now Draco…likes me, your friend."

"Well, when you put it _that _way," said Pansy with a smile. "So, when are you going to talk to Draco?"

Hermione blinked a few times. "About what?"

"This! Me…being okay with things."

"Oh! I…he doesn't know?"

"No, I wanted to tell you. Not him."

"I'm not sure, really. I'll have to think about it."

"Well, I wouldn't advise making him wait," Pansy said with a smile.

**ooo**

Hermione didn't know what to do.

She spent the rest of the week trying to think of just how to tell him. By Friday, she was actually a little annoyed with Pansy for leaving the hard part to her. She could knock on his door, but then what?

How do you tell someone you've been given permission to date him?

Friday night she went to Diagon Alley to think. She went to Flourish and Blotts, as new books always calmed her and gave her inspiration. She left the bookstore and started walking toward a cafe to have dinner; as she neared the place, she heard a laugh. It was one of those laughs that drew your attention, made you take notice. The laugh of someone who really enjoyed laughing. Hermione stopped and looked around. Across the street, she saw a woman laughing, but that wasn't what held her attention. The woman was with Draco.

Hermione blinked and looked again to make sure it was Draco; sure enough, it was him, and he was laughing, and smiling with the woman. Confusion washed over Hermione and she thought she just couldn't take any more. He had told her he wouldn't see anyone during the three month time period they'd agreed upon. But then, he hadn't exactly waited three months, either. She stared and watched them move further up the street.

Hermione didn't understand—after what Pansy had told her, to see him with another woman, out on a Friday night… He had done something amazing – he'd met her at Flourish and Blotts and given her a necklace for her birthday. Then she found out that he'd been seeing someone at the time. True, for Pansy's benefit, but still. Then, he told Pansy he was in love with her… So, what was he doing?

She followed them. If nothing else, she was determined to talk to him.

He walked with his hands in his pockets. The woman beside him was smiling and laughing, and touching him. They stopped outside a prestigious restaurant and Draco held open the door for her to enter before following her. Hermione watched through the window as they joined a group of people already there.

She continued watching; Draco and the woman sat down together, and started talking.

Hermione realized there was a whole side to Draco she didn't even know, an entire part of his world that she had no clue about. He thought he loved her because of what she'd written to him, but…what did he do with all the rest of his time? How could he think that when they'd never even spent a whole day together? She watched him with the large group of people she didn't know and her heart hurt, despite what Pansy had said. On that bridge, it had been easy to believe her, to believe that it could be true. Now…

Feeling somewhat crushed, she sat down on a bench outside the restaurant and watched the people pass. A few minutes later, she heard the door open and someone emerge, talking on a cell phone.

"No, Higgins, I specifically told you. A hundred— Right. For thirty-four, Orange Street, tomorrow morning… Yes…"

The voice was too familiar; Hermione looked up and saw that it was Draco talking. She blinked. A _cell phone_? Even more she didn't know about him!

While listening to the man on the other end of the line, Draco noticed that someone was staring at him. He looked to his right—_Hermione._

He blinked, surprised. "Uh…. Sorry, I missed that; what did you say?" he said into the phone, still looking at her. "Yes… We talked about this the other day… I'm not sure what the problem is…" he sighed and shut his eyes. "I specifically told her to send forty red, forty green, and twenty blue…. Okay…okay. Well, can you do that for me? Can you make that work? Thank you."

He shut the phone and walked to her. "Hey," he said, smiling warmly.

"Hi," she said with a small wave.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was…walking around, actually, and happened to sit on this bench. What are you doing here?"

"Eating," he replied, sitting beside her.

"It's a little late to eat, don't you think?"

"Well, I had a business meeting that ran late."

"On Friday night?"

"Yes. Hasn't Pansy told you I work too much?"

"She's mentioned it."

"Have you eaten?"

"Uh…yes and no."

"Hmm. So, do I invite you in or not?"

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"No, there's a whole group of people. They're all part of a company I'm in conversation with about a merger. They're from an Italian leather making business, actually. Exotic leathers—dragon, hippogriff, etc. Exotic, magical creatures."

"Fascinating."

"Do you… would you like to come inside with me?"

"Not really," she said, unable to completely let him off the hook. "Who's the red head?"

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "She's actually the daughter of the owner of the company we're talking to."

"Oh. She's pretty."

"And you just happened to be sitting on this bench?" he asked.

"Well, no, honestly; I saw you a few blocks away and followed you here."

"Ah. Why didn't you just say hi?"

She sighed. "Because, Draco. I—I don't know what to think when I see you with another woman."

His entire face softened. He made as though to take her hand but stopped. "I don't know what I have to do to convince you that… it's _you _I want."

"Just…" she looked at her hands. It seemed like the right time to talk about them… "I don't know. Just tell me how you feel about me."

"I think you know I want to be with you. But I have to _wait_," he said bitterly. "Three months. Although it's down to one month, three weeks, and yes, I'm keeping track."

"You're waiting for what?"

"At the end of three months, I'm going to decide that I don't care what Pansy thinks, and I don't care that _you _care what Pansy thinks, I'm going to kiss you until you decide that _you _don't care what Pansy thinks anymore."

She grinned. "You think kissing is going to do it?"

"Well, I know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me, so… yeah. Why not?"

"You must think highly of your… skills."

He chuckled. "Well, I've never had any complaints."

Hermione scowled.

"Oh, Merlin. Hermione, come on. Come inside with me."

"You're not worried about Pansy finding out?"

They looked at each other.

"Mmm… no," he said, not quite meeting her eyes. "Because I told her, actually."

Hermione tried her hardest to look as surprised as she should have been. She failed.

Draco looked at her. "And… she told you."

Hermione nodded.

"Okay, well, now we've all told everyone. What did she say?"

"Do we have to have this conversation right here on this bench?"

"Considering now I'm about to go into some sort of panic attack, I think now would be great."

"But they're missing you inside."

"I couldn't care less."

"Your business deal."

"My business deal… I don't care about my business deal."

"You did five minutes ago."

"True, but five minutes ago, I didn't know we'd be having this conversation. Comparatively, Hermione, I don't care. What did Pansy say?"

"She… told me you'd been to see her, and that you told her you… were in love with me."

"What?" he said, stunned.

She looked at him, and for the briefest of moments, she thought perhaps Pansy had lied to her.

"No, I mean, I said that, but I cannot _believe _she told you that."

"Really? You can't believe it. At all."

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "I suppose it's not _that _outlandish an idea…"

"She said you told her you loved me, and how it happened, and assured her of my…innocence in the matter; that you fell for me through my letters, which I sent because you'd asked me to. And you told her everything, all of the times we'd seen each other over the last seven months. You asked her to think about being okay with us. Being together."

Draco looked at her. "Right. And?"

"She said it took time to really think through everything, accept things. She kept hoping I would tell her, or that she would see something in me that would give me away. She went out with Harry and they talked, though Harry had wanted to propose to Pansy that night and he didn't get to because she came home early."

"Wait, propose? As in, get married?"

"Yes. I told you, didn't I?"

"No!" he replied, amazed. "I think I would have remembered something like that!"

"I hinted at it, at least."

"Very subtly, perhaps—too subtle for me."

"My apologies. As I was saying, Harry was a bit cross with her—really, more disappointed than anything. There he was, ready to ask her to marry him, and she starts talking about you. Granted, it was about you _and_ me, but it still bothered Harry. She and Harry didn't speak until that night you were over for games, and I guess they worked something out. Two days later, we went on a walk. She told me that she finally accepted that you … cared about me, and that it wasn't going away. She wants to be in your life, and that means accepting the people you want in yours.

"She said she'd thought about it and decided…" Hermione stopped and looked at Draco. He was on the edge of the bench, watching her intently, every ounce of his attention focused on her and whatever she would say.

"Draco, It's just…I've been thinking. Lately. In the last ten minutes. There's so much I don't know about you! So much that goes on in your life…. I've been sitting in this bubble, where all I have are the times we've been together, and your letters to me, forgetting that life is happening to you in those times we're apart. Which is most of the time!"

"Hermione," he said kindly. "Things are only this way because they've had to be. I'd like nothing more than to have you be a part of everything I do, part of my life. To…see you every day—or, at least, more than I do now—and _talk _to you. It's incredible to me how much I miss you, even though you've never been there."

Hermione bit her lip. "There's something I need to ask you."

He cleared his throat. "All right, what would you like to know?"

"How do you feel about me?"

He looked at her. "Haven't we covered this? I love you. I'm in love with you, I'm crazy about you. Now would you _please _tell me what she said?"

Hermione chuckled. "She said…she told me to make you happy."

Draco let out a his breath. Then he laughed. Then he sobered and looked at her, searching her eyes. "Okay. So this is real, then. I—I can have you."

She nodded, smiling softly.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand and pushed a loose curl out of her face. Hermione shivered. He was looking at her as though he'd never really seen her before.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, gingerly cupping her cheek in his hand. His eyes were glued to the place where they touched; Hermione thought she'd explode from the sudden and extreme sensations bursting through her in star patterns from the point of contact.

Without warning, he kissed her—crashed his lips against hers, and she thought he would drown her, but he was slow…meticulous…careful_…deliberate… _as he explored the every rise and fall of her lips. His hands went to her head, held her just where the end of her jaw met her neck, his fingers clenching in her hair.

He held her firmly in place as though scared she would run away, scared she might _want _to run away. He tortured her with the soft intensity of his attention. His lips darted this way and that, promising wonders and defeating their own insistence. She ached for more.

Hermione had never been so incredibly lost in a moment in all her life. Before she decided to admit that his kisses very likely would have convinced her to forget about Pansy—before she forgot about Pansy completely, or food, or air, he pulled away. It very nearly _hurt_.

Draco was breathing heavily and he rested his forehead against hers, never taking his hands from the back of her neck.

"Oh…" he said, looking into her eyes.

They were so close that she really only saw one eye, but it was burning and it burned through her to her very centre.

"That was…" he started.

"There are no words," she said.

He smiled and pulled back. Vaguely her other senses returned and she heard the sounds of the street, of people making their way up and down the busy thoroughfare. She smelled the food wafting through an open window of the restaurant. She saw that no one had noticed the supernova in their midst. She smiled.

"I've been imagining this moment since you wrote, in one of your earliest letters, 'I simply cannot get over the beauty of a walk in the rain.' I knew then…"

She gasped. "You remember that?"

"It burned into my brain, Hermione, and I have no idea why. But this… this is _better _than all the pictures in my head, all the ways I thought it would happen. Seven months, and it's like nothing now."

She smiled. "I don't really know why you waited for me."

He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes there are just things you know. I knew, maybe even from that night in your hallway, that we worked. And I wasn't going to let that chance slip away."

The door to the restaurant opened, and the red headed woman came out. "Draco? Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked around at her. "Yes?"

"We were hoping to get started, if… that's all right with you."

He looked back at Hermione, who nodded. "Yes, I'll be right there," he told the woman. She went back into the restaurant. "Are you coming with me?" he asked, standing.

"Yes, I am."

"Good. I want you to know, though, that I don't work too much."

"All right."

"And that if you ever think I do, I'll work less."

She smiled. "Okay."

"Until I work just right for you, all right?"

She laughed. "Draco, we don't have to decide everything right now."

He grabbed her round the waist and pulled her to him. "I'm just not taking any chances. I'm not letting you go."

She nodded, biting her lip and trying her best not to kiss him, or drag him away from the restaurant. She won the latter battle, but lost the first one and took her turn at trying to drown him.

**ooo**

"Wait…what?"

"Hermione's with Malfoy."

Ron frowned, then his jaw dropped. He shook his head. "What?"

Pansy handed Ron a cold butterbeer and then sat beside Harry and handed him one as well. "It's true."

Ron gaped at Pansy. "_You _know? I mean…you don't mind?"

She grinned and took a sip of her Earl Grey. "Not at all."

Ron glanced from Harry to Pansy, then to Harry and to Pansy again. Slowly he started to smile. "You're pulling my leg. Good one."

"We're serious, mate," said Harry. "It's been…what, two weeks, Pansy?"

"Yes, two weeks ago tonight. She came home from Diagon Alley and the look on her face…I just knew she'd seen him! _And _I got all the juicy details!"

Ron's face scrunched. "I do _not _want details. Only…wait…. How is that _possible_? When did that happen?"

"It's a long story," said Pansy, chuckling. "Just thought we'd warn you, as they'll be here soon."

"The other night," said Ron thoughtfully. "When we were all here for games, and it was…awkward. Was that because of this?"

Harry and Pansy exchanged a look. "Sort of…. Honestly, Ron. Very long, boring, detailed story," said Pansy.

"So I should ask Hermione then?" he quipped, grinning.

"If you can get her away from Draco for a few hours," said Pansy.

"Good luck with that," said Harry.

"They spend all of their free time together. I've seen her…three times since that first night."

"Wow, really?"

"It's true," said Pansy. "She's told me some of what they do: talk, read, talk, talk about books, talk about his job, talk about her job—oh, speaking of which, she's quitting and taking a position in one of Draco's research firms. He's basically giving her the firm to do whatever she wants."

Ron shook his head. "After two weeks? What is he _thinking_?"

"Oh, he's in love with her."

"_WHAT?!_"

Harry chuckled. "It's true. But that's part of the long story."

"It's not as though they've just started fancying each other. It's been quite a while, really," said Pansy.

"Months," added Harry.

"Wow. I had no idea!"

"No one did," said Pansy.

"And…we're all okay with this?" Ron asked. "I just want to make sure we're all in agreement."

"Yes," said Pansy again.

"They're probably going to get married," added Harry. "Maybe even before Pansy and I do."

"Really? That soon?"

"Well, there is a lot to plan and think about for a wedding. There are so many details to arrange… Harry and I are thinking of June. But Hermione doesn't seem interested in a big, fancy wedding. I can imagine them getting married at her parents' house, or in the garden at Draco's."

"I…I'm completely surprised and shocked and…wow."

"Yeah. Just… give Malfoy a chance," said Harry. "He's not half bad, really. And he's crazy about Hermione."

"That's good," said Ron. "Anything less…"

"Exactly."

Just then they heard the door open and laughter drift down the hall.

"They're here," said Pansy in a whisper. "Ron, try to act surprised when she tells you, okay? She's nervous."

"We wanted to tell you in advance though, to reduce the chances of you hexing Malfoy."

"Okay…" said Ron. "Act surprised. Got it."

As soon as Hermione and Draco rounded the corner, hand in hand, Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco and said, "Hurt her and you'll experience more pain than you ever imagined possible." Then he smiled. "Hey, Hermione!"

Draco laughed. "Fair enough, Weasley."

"Ron!" Hermione cried, eyed wide.

Acting as though nothing at all out of the ordinary had been said, Ron rubbed his hands together. "Suzette will be joining us late, but what do you say to starting the game early?"

**ooo**

**End Notes**: Thank you for reading! I truly hope you've enjoyed this story. My plan is to write an epilogue sometime in the near future, but it isn't written yet and I'm not sure when it will happen. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and given me your words of encouragement! They mean more than you could know!


	12. Epilogue

**Beta Credits**: Many, many thanks to my two betas, kazfeist and pokeystar

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and his world belong to JK Rowling. I write to learn. No money is being made.

**ooo**

**Bring me to Life – Epilogue**

"I still can't quite believe you're really moving," said Hermione, magically sealing the last box from the living room. The entire room was packed, and the only piece of furniture that remained was the sofa.

"I know," said Pansy, unable to hide her excitement. "Tomorrow, I'll wake up in my new house! I can't wait."

Hermione smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Pansy. What you're about to do is incredible. I know you'll be amazing."

Pansy sat on the sofa and looked around the room thoughtfully. "So much happened here," she said. "So many memories …" She sighed. She was leaving the flat she had first shared with Hermione and then Harry, stepping out into the world of responsibility. Pansy pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm going to miss it."

Hermione gave Pansy's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll go and fetch some tea."

Pansy nodded. She remembered the first night she'd spent in Hermione's flat, scared and absolutely sure that she wouldn't be there for long, that Draco would come and take her away. That one night turned into hundreds, and with Hermione's help, Pansy had made a full recovery. Since finally letting go on the same bridge where she'd thought to meet her end, she had married Harry Potter, completed her apprenticeship at the candy shoppe, and, finally, successfully landed real estate in Hogsmeade where she would open her own shoppe.

She and Harry would live on the main street in a quaint, two-story flat that sat above the candy shoppe. Pansy never would have imagined she could be happy in such a small place, but with Harry, she found she didn't care where she was.

Hermione returned and handed Pansy a cup of tea with two lumps of sugar and no milk. She sipped it slowly, relishing the feel of the amber liquid running through her, warming her to her toes. Snow was falling outside the window.

"The men will be here soon for the last load," Hermione said.

"Do you miss this place?" Pansy asked, meeting her friend's gaze.

Hermione smiled. "I did, very much." She paused. "At least, I missed what went on inside it. Living with you, the dinners we made, the parties, new friends …"

Pansy smirked. "I imagine you didn't miss it for long. The Manor, and its owner especially, surely proved to be … distracting, at the least."

It never failed that Hermione blushed whenever Pansy referred to her intimate life with Draco, even thought they'd been married for almost a year. Pansy always spoke as though she knew a secret in the matter, one that she dearly loved to skirt about but never actually say. Hermione wasn't even sure Pansy did it on purpose.

"Nevertheless," Hermione said, ignoring her friend's comment, "I missed living with you. Draco is wonderful, of course, but sometimes I missed our girl nights."

"We still have them," Pansy reminded her.

"Yes, when they're scheduled, planned, written on calendars, double-checked … I miss the spontaneous times."

"Me too," said Pansy, sipping from her cup. "As much as I love Harry …"

Hermione smiled. "It's not the same."

"Not even close!" said Pansy. She tipped the cup back, draining the last drops into her mouth. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Hermione took the empty teacup and cleaned both it and her own before shrinking them and putting them into a Bottomless Bag for safe transport to Pansy's new house. "We'll still get together, of course."

"Naturally. Game Nights and dinner parties …" said Pansy. "Oh! I'll have to throw a housewarming party!"

Hermione smiled. "Any excuse will do."

Before Pansy could respond, they heard the sound of talking coming from the bedroom. They had set up a temporary Apparition station in the bedroom for the task of moving. It was rectangular in shape, and all of the boxes and furniture were placed within the rectangle. When activated, all of the items inside the space were transported to the other side, in Harry and Pansy's new house.

Within moments, Harry, Ron and Draco entered the living room, still in a heated discussion about Quidditch.

"It's Chudley's year, mate. Accept it now, or you'll just feel like a tosser by the end of the season," said Ron.

Harry groaned. "Are you back on the Cannons? We agreed with you twenty minutes ago!"

"All I said," Draco remarked, "Was that Everhard could pay a little more attention at his goal. He's doing well, but I think the recognition is getting to him. If he's not careful, he'll get cocky and slip up."

Pansy and Hermione looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Last load," Hermione said, addressing the men. When their attention was on her, she pointed to the wall near the front door, where boxes were piled. "Just those boxes over there and the sofa."

"Yes, ma'am," said Ron, pointing his wand at a stack and Levitated it.

"Ron, be careful," said Pansy. "Don't be too hasty and drop something."

"Yeah, yeah," said Ron, distractedly. He'd chosen the tallest pile to move first, and it soon became clear that it would be difficult to keep control over the load. Harry joined Ron, using the same spell to steady the boxes, and together they maneuvered them through the flat and into the bedroom.

Draco watched amusedly, and then sat on the sofa between Hermione and Pansy. He put his arm around Hermione and pulled her close to kiss her solidly on the lips. She was so surprised that she responded, wrapping her arms around him and threading her fingers through his hair.

However, it was not the sleek, soft hair she was used to; instead, it was sweaty from the exertion of controlling boxes and furniture as he Levitated them through the air, carefully moving them so as not to disturb their contents.

Hermione pulled out of his grasp, a look of disgust on her face. Draco laughed. "Sorry, love. Forgot to warn you about that."

Then Hermione noticed that her husband also smelled as though he'd been moving all day. She wrinkled her nose. "A shower is your first priority when we get home."

Pansy laughed. "I was just about to tell you two to Conjure a bed and use a Silencing Charm, but I guess that won't be necessary, will it?"

As Harry and Ron returned down the hall, Draco leaned over to kiss Hermione again. She bowed her body away from him, but couldn't go too far because of the arm of the sofa. Draco kissed her lightly on the lips, so softly and deliberately, as though he only existed to brush his lips against hers, that she almost forgot that she had found him in any way unpleasant just moments before. When he pulled away, she missed the contact.

He smirked and stood up to join Harry and Ron.

Hermione followed his movements, then glanced at Pansy, who had a whimsical expression on her face.

"You'll visit, won't you?" she asked, fisting her shirt, as she did when she was feeling unsteady.

"Of course!" Hermione assured her. "Often. Nothing will change. You'll just be farther away, that's all. We'll have a lovely selection of new restaurants to try out when we come for a visit."

"Good. Do you really think I'm ready for this?" Pansy bit her lip, frowning. "Moving away from everything I know, opening this shoppe, running it myself …"

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on Pansy's arm. "Absolutely, I think you're ready. You and Harry need to have your own life, establish your family, outside of the context of Ron and me. And Draco. It's one reason I haven't been as easily accessible recently. Draco and I …"

"You're pregnant!" Pansy exclaimed.

"Whoa!" said Ron, who had returned to the room for more boxes, Harry and Draco trailing behind him. "Congratulations, Hermione!"

"No, I—"

"You beat us to it!" Harry exclaimed, rushing over to give Hermione an awkward hug that she didn't quite return. Then he looked at Pansy.

"Don't even think about it, Harry Potter," she said, folding her arms. "Not for a few years yet. Do you honestly think I'd consider it right now?"

"No, reckon not," he said, somewhat sheepishly.

Draco was still standing in the doorway, his wide, questioning eyes soldered onto his wife's face. He felt … blank. No, that wasn't the right word. He wasn't breathing; he didn't hear anything his friends were saying. All that mattered was what came out of Hermione's mouth next. He was surprised to find that he wasn't panicked; instead, he felt as though he were suspended in midair, waiting for the rush of gravity to pull him back down.

Hermione turned to him and saw him waiting. "I'm not pregnant," she announced, not taking her eyes from Draco's. "Pansy jumped to that conclusion for some reason."

Draco let his breath out, then walked purposefully across the room, took Hermione's face in his hands, and kissed her. The others were silent as they watched, stunned, feeling as though they shouldn't be witnessing the scene before them. When Draco released Hermione after the brief but intense kiss, he smiled. "I would have been all right, either way."

"Do you really think I wouldn't tell you first?" she whispered.

He straightened. "No, you're right. I wasn't thinking. I simply reacted."

Hermione gave her friend a pointed look.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy cried, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Sorry for the mess. I spoke without thinking or information."

When the men left the room, Hermione frowned at Pansy. "Why did you do that?"

Pansy shrugged. "I really am sorry. I … The truth is, I've been thinking a lot about … children, because I know Harry wants a family. I do too, of course. I simply wonder when we'll be ready, and if we'll know when we'll be ready. Will there be some kind of sign?"

"I have no idea. I think, perhaps, that as you think about it more and more, eventually it isn't so frightening an idea. When the idea of kids doesn't send you running and screaming, maybe then you're ready."

Pansy looked down at her lap. "What if I'm never ready? Honestly, I want a family. I just never imagined having to be the one to raise my children."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Who did you expect would have that duty?"

"A nanny," Pansy replied without a thought. "Or at least a house-elf. What if I'm an awful mum? I don't know anything about raising children. I'll be terrible at it, I just know it!"

"What are you getting at?" Hermione inquired. "Where is this coming from? Are … are _you_ pregnant?"

Pansy's eyes widened in fear. "Merlin, no! I'm still terrified of the idea!"

"Accidents happen though," Hermione said. "Sometimes you're not careful, you forget to cast the spell or take your potion …"

"No," Pansy said firmly. "I make sure I don't forget."

"Then why are you so worried about this now?" Hermione asked.

Harry, Ron and Draco returned then for the last load of boxes. Pansy waited until they were gone to speak.

"I've been thinking about it a lot, is all. Harry showed me some pictures of his parents last week, and he was so enamored with the idea of a family … It spooked me, I reckon."

Hermione smiled in understanding. "Don't be afraid. It's a natural part of life. You and Harry will make excellent parents."

"I don't know!" Pansy whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "What if I'm not? What if I'm a terrible mum?"

"Don't worry about this now," Hermione said calmly. "You've got time yet. Your relationship with Harry needs to grow, until you're more comfortable, more stable, more secure. Then you can think about children."

Footsteps announced the approaching men, and Pansy stood from the sofa, surreptitiously wiping her eyes.

"Ladies, we need that sofa," said Ron, his tone very official.

Harry and Draco moved the sofa while Ron barked directions. "A little more to the left … watch that corner! … Here's the hallway, now—careful …"

Hermione and Pansy stood facing each other, quiet until the men were gone. Then Hermione hugged Pansy, who cried into Hermione's hair.

"It's okay," Hermione assured her, surprised at the strength of emotions coming from the other woman. "You'll be great, I just know it." That only made Pansy sob harder. When the tears finally slowed, Pansy pulled away.

"Thanks," she said. Then she laughed brokenly. "I needed that. I just … my mother was never there for me. We had a nanny _and_ a house-elf. I saw her at meals, and every thought I had, everything I did, was designed to get her to notice me, to be proud of me. But it was like I wasn't really there, like I was just … another ornament to her, something to make her look good for company, a doll she could dress up and parade in front of her friends. I don't want to be like that, but it's all I know!"

Hermione suspected that at least one of the men had come upon Pansy crying, and was keeping the others away, a gesture for which she was grateful.

"Pansy, there's no need to worry about this right now! I don't like seeing you think about this. You and Harry haven't even been married a year, together for less than two."

"I know that, but ever since last week, I've been seeing mums with their children. I mean, really noticing, you know? Watching the way they interact, talk to each other. I never had that with my mum."

"The very fact that you're thinking about this so much assures me that you'll be wonderful," Hermione said. "You don't want to be like your mum, and face it, it would require making certain decisions in order for you to begin down that path, and as long as you don't hire a nanny, you'll be fine. I _know_ Harry won't buy a house-elf. So you'll be raising your children, just you and Harry." She paused. "Have you and Harry talked about this at all?"

Pansy shook her head.

"Maybe you should," Hermione suggested. "He didn't even have his own parents to raise him. He lived in a cupboard for eleven years! You two are going to be very interesting parents, at the least."

Pansy smiled at that. "I think we can do better than a cupboard," she said softly.

"Without a doubt. Are you better now?"

"Yes," Pansy replied, sniffing. She threw her arms around Hermione. "Thank you, really."

"That's what friends are for," Hermione said.

**ooo**

Game Night was hosted by Harry and Pansy the same evening they moved into their new home in Hogsmeade. The table was set up, chairs set around it, and the boxes in the kitchen were open, with unnecessary tools covering most of the counter space. Plates, cups, and flatware were retrieved, and since no one could make anything in the cluttered kitchen beyond a glass of water, food was ordered for take away from the Three Broomsticks.

Harry and Pansy, Draco and Hermione, Ron and Suzette sat around the table after beginning their final game of the evening, one that Suzette had discovered while on a trip to the States with her family.

"I call blue!" said Hermione, reaching for the bag of blue trains.

"White!" said Suzette.

Pansy quickly snatched the pink, even though no one else would have wanted that particular color. Draco took green, Ron red, and Harry black.

They talked as they set up the board, shuffling the cards and serving more food. Hermione noticed that Ron was behaving oddly all of a sudden, not talking to anyone and staring at the ground. She was about to say something when Suzette let out a gasp. Ron's head whipped around to her, his eyes intense and searching.

"Oh, Ron!" Suzette cried, holding something delicately in her hand.

Ron's face turned red, but he took Suzette's hand. All attention in the room was on the pair. "I … I'm not too good with these things," he said nervously. "But for some reason, I'd gotten in my head that asking you to marry me tonight, with our friends, was a good idea." The laugh that followed was anxious. "I'm not so sure now …"

Suzette practically leapt out of her chair to throw her arms around Ron. "Do you mean it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, course I do. I love you."

"J'taime! Oh, Ron, you 'ave made me so happy!" She pulled away, happy tears glistening in her eyes, and held the ring that had been in her bag of white trains out for Ron to place on her finger. "Would you?"

He grinned and, despite his shaking hands, slid the diamond onto Suzette's hand. Then she leapt onto him for another hug.

Hermione smiled as the others congratulated the pair. Harry was first, and then he went again after Draco, grinning as big as he had when he and Pansy had married. They seemed to move in slow motion, shaking hands enthusiastically, clapping shoulders before giving up all pretenses and embracing. Harry's eyes misted over a bit, and Hermione knew that he was thankful for his life, that all of his closest friends were happy and well. She thought of Ginny, whom they all dearly missed. Ginny would be proud of her brother, and equally happy to see her friends doing well.

That night, Hermione lay contentedly in Draco's arms, skimming her fingers lightly across his chest. His attention had been solely on her during their love-making, but now he seemed deep in contemplation, his thoughts far away.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, nuzzling closer.

He pulled her close and kissed her head. "You really want to know?"

"Of course," she replied, meeting his eyes with her own full of question. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Pansy earlier … at the flat. What was the matter?"

"Oh." Hermione propped herself on her arm. "She was struggling with the idea of becoming a mother someday. She didn't have the best childhood, or a good relationship with her mother, and she worried that she wouldn't be a good mum."

"Mmm," Draco mumbled, his brow creasing slightly. "My upbringing was very similar to Pansy's. I had a nanny and house-elf that cared for me, just like she did. We've talked a lot about our similar pasts."

"Are you worried you won't be a good mum?" Hermione joked.

Draco smiled slightly, then returned to the frown. "Not exactly," he said finally. "A good father though, absolutely. I worry about that. Look at the one I had. But … that's not what I've been thinking about. All day."

"What then?" She returned to lying beside him, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

"Earlier, at the flat. When I thought, for those few moments, that you really might be pregnant."

"Oh," she exhaled, her own brow wrinkling with concern. "Were you upset?"

Draco pulled away from her just enough to look her in the eye. "Upset? That was the farthest thing from my mind! Why would you ask that?"

Hermione shrugged and Draco moved back. "Pansy and I were talking, is all. She's not ready to have children, and I've done some reading on the subject. There are a few different reactions people have when they learn they are going to be a parent. One of them is anger, another is fear. She's terrified. Since you mentioned the similar upbringings, I thought perhaps, at this point, you would share her sentiment."

"Quite the contrary. I expected to be petrified, frozen to the spot, feeling like my lungs were collapsing and my heart would break through my chest. But … that didn't happen."

He stopped, and she waited for him to continue. When it seemed as though he wouldn't, she spoke, softly. "What did happen?"

"I … I waited. It felt like an eternity. I wanted you to either deny or confirm the statement, and it seemed as if the entire room stopped existing except for you and me. The seconds seemed to stretch into hours, and I hoped … I found myself hoping, deep inside, that you really were. That it was true."

Hermione gasped and sat up, the sheet falling to her waist. "What?"

Draco stared at her, desire and something more evident on his face. "Of course, I didn't realize that until after you'd said it wasn't true, and I felt a strange, monumental disappointment. It went all the way to the heart of me."

"We haven't even been married a year!" she said, trying to ignore the heat from his eyes.

"I know that, love. It's been amazing so far. I simply wanted you to know how I feel, how I discovered it today. I'm not asking for us to start thinking about it, or trying." He shrugged and reached out to grasp the arm closest to him. "I'm ready, whenever you are. But I think it's an important thing for me, a big step. I love you, and I want to have a child with you," he said. "I want us to make a child together."

Hermione felt the sparks where his hand was slowly and lightly running up and down her arm. He'd given up not ogling, and stared at her, making his immediate wishes known.

She didn't want to be distracted; not yet, at least. "Draco … the thing is … I don't think I'm ready."

He smiled at her, the desire momentarily displaced by all the love he could channel into the expression. "I know. I don't expect you to be, just because I said I am. But I wanted to say it."

"Okay," she said, relief coursing through her. "I'd like a few years with just you, all to myself. Is that being terribly selfish?"

Draco smirked. "No. I quite like the idea, actually."

"Me too." She took his hand in hers and traced the outline of his hand, pausing when she reached the finger on which he wore his ring. "Just us …" she said softly, more to herself than to him.

He waited a few moments, then pulled her face toward his and kissed her. Hermione sighed into his lips, knowing what this kiss meant. It was slow, almost painstaking, as he plotted and mapped every inch of her mouth. When he pulled away slightly, she frowned.

"Patience, love," he chuckled. "I was thinking that, although we might not consider children for a while, that we should get in as much practice as possible, so that when the time comes, we'll be, ah, fully prepared."

Hermione grinned. "I love practice. It's a bit like homework."

**ooo**

At five minutes to close on Monday, November first, Pansy bid farewell to her last customer of the day. When the door shut behind the woman, a small bell chiming, Pansy sighed in contentment. The day had gone well, though, being her first day of business, she had nothing to compare it to. People had been in and out all day but she would worry about the sales sheet later.

Pansy walked around the small showroom, straightening the boxes on shelves, making sure all the merchandise was in perfect position for the next day—her second day. By the time she reached the door, it was closing time. She flipped the sign and used her wand to close the shutters over the windows. She had expected Harry to join her by now, but perhaps he had been kept late at his job.

She found she was thankful for the quiet moment by herself with her shop. It was hers. Sure, Harry had helped, put up the down payment and the capital for all of the equipment, but she had made it warm and welcoming. More importantly, she had created all of the delicacies on display for purchase.

Pansy picked up the paperwork from the day and a small bag of her most special chocolates, looked around the shop one last time, and turned out the lights, heading through the kitchen and up the stairs into the flat she shared with Harry. She was in a celebratory mood and Harry had never experienced the chocolate she held firmly in her grasp, a recipe of her creation that she had saved especially for this occasion. She smirked as she neared the door, knowing he would be in for quite a surprise.

Her last thought before turning the old doorknob was given to deciding what she should wear for him that night. Harry seemed to favor the red, but then they always ended up having more fun with the light blue.

She opened the door and found the room pitch black. Frowning, she flicked on a light and—

"Surprise!"

Pansy gasped, nearly dropping the things in her hands. Harry, Ron, Suzette, Draco and Hermione, along with a group of their extended friends, had shouted all at once.

Harry went to her, took the paperwork and chocolates and set them aside. "Congratulations on your first day of business, love," he said, kissing her cheek and slipping a miniscule box into her hand. "For … later," he whispered suggestively, causing Pansy to blush despite what she had been thinking just moments before.

Then she smiled and threw her arms around her husband. "Thank you!" she said, first to him and then to everyone in the room.

Harry released her and then Hermione hugged her. "We've got hors d'ouvres going now, and dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes. You really had no idea?" she asked.

"No, none!" Pansy chuckled. "I'm completely surprised!"

Draco joined his wife and brought Pansy a drink. "I'm very proud of you, Pansy," he said appreciatively.

Pansy smiled. "Thank you, Draco. You'll have to stop by and see it. I'll give you a free sample." She thought about the special chocolates she had made and decided to make a few more batches to share. Hermione would thank her later.

They left and Pansy began speaking to her other guests. Suzette could talk of nothing but her upcoming wedding, while Ron looked as though he just wanted the bloody thing over and done with. Blaise Zabini was there with his most recent girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, though Pansy didn't miss the longing looks he sent Hermione all night. Poor Blaise, she thought. Hermione was a once-in-a-lifetime woman, and Draco had snatched her up. There was nothing Blaise could have done.

The evening was perfect, but Hermione began ushering everyone out right after dinner.

"Remember, Pansy—and all of you, I might add—have to work tomorrow. She needs her sleep."

Most of those present rolled their eyes, either visibly or internally, but Pansy didn't care. Hermione was doing what she thought was best for Pansy. However, Hermione didn't know that Pansy had no intention of turning in early, that she planned to spend the majority of her evening with her husband.

Finally, everyone was gone save Draco and Hermione. As she had gathered her cookware, shrunk it and stowed it in her purse, Pansy slipped two pieces of chocolate, wrapped in parchment, into Draco's coat pocket.

Hermione gave Pansy one last, long hug as they said their goodbyes.

"Thank you," Pansy said. "For everything."

"My pleasure," Hermione returned, slipping into her coat. "This … what you've done, is amazing. I'm so, so proud of all you have accomplished. Have a wonderful evening, and we'll be by the shoppe soon." She looked at Harry. "Hope you're ready for what she's got in store for you, Harry. Be sure to drink lots of fluids to keep up your strength. Night!"

With that, she smiled wickedly and walked out the door, leaving two confused men and a red-faced Pansy behind. Draco fished in his pocket for his gloves and found the chocolates.

"What's this?" he asked, starting to pull his hand and the candies out of his pocket.

Pansy grabbed his arm and shoved his hand back. "Just go home. One is for you, the other for Hermione. Enjoy." She pushed him, still confused, out the door and locked it behind him.

Harry was staring at her predatorily. "What's going on?"

She smirked. "It so happens that I have a gift for you, as well. Let's retire to the bedroom and we'll open, shall we?" She took his hand and the bag of chocolates and led him down the hallway. For the first time in her life, Pansy finally felt completely happy and content. She had a wonderful husband, great friends, and she was now the owner of a business where she produced confections and sweets that made people happy. Finally, her life was exactly where she wanted it to be.

**ooo**

**End Notes**: The game they played is called Ticket to Ride, available at boardgamegeekdotcom. It's designed for 2-5 players, but in this story, I decided they played a special edition, for more than 5 players.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story through the long break and editing. I truly hope you've enjoyed this epilogue. Your reviews have been amazing and more encouraging than you can know! THANK YOU!


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